


My Summer Vacation (With the Serial Killer)

by LilKrissMuffet



Series: Boyfriend 2 DIE 4 [4]
Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol, Anal Sex, Arson, Biting, Blood, Blow Jobs, Cannibalism, Car Sex, Choking, Dismemberment, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gross, Guns, Hate Sex, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Knifeplay, M/M, Master/Pet, Multi, Murder, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Shower Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Violent Sex, Vomiting, Warning: Strade (Boyfriend to Death)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:46:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilKrissMuffet/pseuds/LilKrissMuffet
Summary: Strade takes Y/N on an impromptu road trip. Yay!...but Ren isn't too happy.
Relationships: Sano Kojima/Reader, Sano Kojima/Strade, Strade (BTD/TNR)/Reader
Series: Boyfriend 2 DIE 4 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819693
Comments: 42
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So..the last part of this is just pure self-indulgent porn, and I do apologize if you just wanted to see our boy kill some more. That will be coming in the next chapter. Pinky promise! :)

I. Cold Pancakes

The next morning was…awkward, to say the least. Ren had gotten up earlier than usual to brew coffee and cook breakfast. He wouldn't say much or even look at the two of them for longer than it took to ask how many pancakes they wanted, just knowing there was something going on between them besides the constant loud, obnoxious sex they probably assumed he couldn’t hear through his earbuds.

It wasn’t unusual for Ren to wake up and find that Y/N wasn’t in the room with him, but he noticed that the door to the basement hadn’t been shut all the way when he came downstairs. They had to have been down there. Keeping secrets from him. He felt uneasy as he flipped pancakes onto Strade’s plate, trying to pretend not to notice Y/N’s awful, drastically short haircut. 

_Sheesh,_ he thought to himself, _had she chopped it off in the dark, or what?_

He turned to bring the pan back to the stove and felt Strade’s piercing gaze on his back as he grabbed him by the tail, dragging him to his side. He gave him a couple scratches behind the ears and Ren reflexively leaned his head into his hand, savoring the attention. 

“Say, Ren…be a good little fox and pour me another cuppa coffee, _ja?”_

Sitting to Strade’s left at the small, round kitchen table, Y/N tried in vain to focus on her breakfast. She had been so excited about their upcoming road trip that she had accidentally poured too much maple syrup on her pancakes, making them unbearably soggy and sweet. Strade casually sipped his coffee and kicked her leg under the table, snapping her to his attention.

“Eat up, _liebchen!_ We have a busy day ahead of us, you know..”

He smirked over his coffee mug at Ren as he sat down at the table. His ears flattened, looking visibly uncomfortable. He clutched his fork and knife tightly in each hand and stared down at his plate. Strade continued to leer at him while shoveling forkfuls of pancake into his mouth. He reached over and jabbed Ren sharply in the arm with his sticky, syrupy fork, making him jump. 

“Hey, your food is gonna get co-“

Finally, Ren glared up at him. He had almost the same strange, sunset-like eye color as Strade and Y/N observed that they both seemed to burn with a similar fire within when their emotions ran high.

“Look, I get it! You guys are doing… _something_ behind my back. I-I’m not stupid, y’know!..”

His voice cracked and he dug his claws into the arms of his chair, leaving tiny scratch marks in the wood. Y/N reached out to lay a comforting hand on his, and he jerked away, not wanting to be touched. Strade just chuckled and licked some maple syrup off of his upper lip. 

“Ahahh…ya got me there! I might as well tell you now, then. I’m going out of town for a couple days on ah… _business,_ so I need you to be the man of the house while I’m gone, alright?”

He leaned over to playfully ruffle his orange hair but Ren just stared at him. 

“Wait…that’s it? But I thought…”

“…I’m going with him!”, Y/N blurted out, unable to hold in her excitement any longer. She noticed Strade’s grin go a bit stiff in her peripheral vision, his grip tightening on the handle of his coffee mug. 

Ren’s face fell immediately, looking crestfallen. 

“Wh-what…no…you’re joking, right…?”

His eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, suddenly feeling like the walls of the cozy little kitchen nook were closing in on him. His eyes widened and he hunched his shoulders like a cornered animal.

Strade pushed aside his empty plate and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. He didn’t seem to be bothered by how obviously uncomfortable Ren looked. 

“Ahhh..mmm, that was good…! …But nah, it’s no joke. I thought Y/N would be.. _useful_ to me on this particular trip so I’m bringing her along. Don’t be sad, Ren! I’ll bring you back a souvenir…!~”

He laughed and elbowed Y/N like it was some kind of inside joke and she blushed, smiling nervously, but she still felt bad for Ren. She thought he must feel like he had been betrayed, but had no idea what to say to make him feel better. She could only hope that he didn’t hate her after all of this.

Ren was silent, absently swirling his fork in a pool of syrup on his plate and clutching his tail in his other arm like a security blanket. Strade pushed out his chair and stood up, the sudden loud scraping on the linoleum startling him. 

“Well! I better go pack…and _you_ should too, Y/N..”, he said, tickling under her chin with one finger as if she were a kitten. “I got an extra duffel bag in the hall closet you can use.”

Then he moved behind Ren, clapping his hands onto his bare shoulders and digging his nails in hard enough to make him flinch.

“Thanks for breakfast, buddy! Make sure you clean up when you’re done.”

Strade leaned down to whisper in one of his pointy ears, making it twitch at the feel of his warm, syrupy-sweet breath blowing into it.

“I _know_ you’ll behave while I’m gone…right, Ren?”

“Yes, Strade. Y-you can count on me.”, he whimpered back. A well-practiced response.

Strade grinned, growling low in his throat.

“ _Gut…Zwing mich nicht dich zu bestrafen.”_

He straightened up and suddenly slapped his palm on the table, making the silverware rattle.

“OK, good talk! I’ll be in my room if ya need me!”, he declared, smiling cheerfully and strolling out of the kitchen, clearly in a chipper mood. 

Ren let out a shaky exhale, allowing his tense shoulders to relax. He understood just about as much German as Y/N did but he also knew a threat when he heard one. She sat there awkwardly, the tension in the small space between them palpable, and cleared her throat.

“Ren…? Hey, you OK?…”

“Where is he taking you?”, he asked in a quiet, flat voice. He still wouldn’t look at her.

“I…I don’t know. He said somewhere far away. It’s for his work though, that much I do know. Probably picking up-“

“He’s gonna kill you out there, you know.”

She shot him a narrow-eyed glare, her fist clenching in her lap.

“What!? I don’t think-“

Ren met her gaze, staring her down with eyes over-bright with forming tears.

“Are you that _dense?_ Why do you _think_ he’s bringing you? He’s gonna…he’s-he’s..g-gonna….”, he stammered out, starting to hyperventilate.

Y/N sprang from her seat and wrapped her arms around him as he started to cry into his pancakes. 

“I…I..I’m sorry, Y/N…it’s just that..”

Ren choked out a sob and she stroked his hair, trying to be of some comfort. She had no words for him, and wasn’t even sure if he would want any. All she could do was listen.

“I thought…I was…that I was maybe still a little bit.. _special_ to him, that’s all. But..he chose you. And…that’s not _your_ fault.”

She gently turned his head to look into his eyes. 

“You _are_ special, Ren. You wanna know why?…You’re still _alive.”_

He let out a sharp bark of a laugh, sounding a little too much like Strade when nothing struck him as particularly funny.

“…Yeah.”

He said it like maybe that fact wasn’t the greatest thing in the world, but he smiled a bit, nonetheless.

Y/N gave him a little kiss on the cheek and brought her plate to the sink.

“I’ll take care of these dishes, kiddo. Just take it easy.”

Ren nodded and reluctantly went back to eating, trying to ignore the fact that for one terrifying instant, he had desperately wanted to stab his dull butter knife into the side of her neck as far as it would go.

II. Dress-Up

There was a large cardboard box in the back of the hall closet filled to the brim with random accessories like hats, scarves, sunglasses, and mismatched shoes. She saw a few wristwatches here and there, most of them broken, and even an expensive designer handbag, probably worth at least a grand. It was truly a testament to Strade’s confidence that he would even keep these things. Either that, or to how fucking crazy he was. There had to be incriminating DNA all over this stuff.

She picked out a faded, pink baseball cap with the words “bad hair day” embroidered across the front in comic sans font and tried it on. She wondered how long the poor soul it had belonged to had lasted once Strade had brought them home. Had they begged him to let them go, attempted to reason with him? Or had they fought back, maybe trying to bite his hand when he leaned in close to touch their face as he promised not to hurt them?

As she crouched on the floor of the closet and daydreamed about all the dead people whose belongings she was rifling through, she found a pair of dark sunglasses, cheap, plastic, and oversized. She didn’t hear the footsteps creeping up behind her and she almost shrieked when she felt Strade’s rough hand close around the back of her neck. 

“Oh, good! You found my dress-up box, eh?”

She stood up to face him and he laughed out loud when he saw how she looked in the hat and comically oversized shades. It was a bright, genuinely joyful sound and it made her heart feel warm and soft. She knew he had probably laughed like that when he was killing the people that had worn these things last, his toothy grin glinting faintly in the artificial basement light and the coppery taste of their blood in his mouth.

“Look at you, _schatzi!_ You look just like a movie star!”

“Hehe…thanks.. I think I like these!”

“Then they’re yours! Take whatever you want, not like anyone else needs ‘em.” 

He pulled a black duffel bag down from the top shelf and pushed it into her arms.

“Hmm..this thing is almost big enough for me to pack _you_ into! Hah!”

She giggled a tad nervously, thinking about what Ren had said to her in the kitchen. He hadn’t really meant it, but still. _Had_ he?

Strade gave her a little shove towards the stairs so she could go to her room and pack, but stopped her just before she could head up. 

“Don’t be afraid, _liebling…_ I just meant that you’re so small…only teasing, you know _me,_ haha!”

He lowered her sunglasses down her nose and leaned in close, gazing into her eyes and resting his hand on the curve of her waist.

“I know, Strade…I’m just kinda nervous, that’s all..”

“Aww..it’s OK, _mein kleine hase._ I know the big, wide world can be a scary place sometimes..but just stay close to me..and I’ll protect you…”, he purred against her mouth, not quite meeting her lips in a ghost of a kiss. His tone was more than a bit condescending but she didn’t care. Her body was already melting involuntarily into his.

“In fact…I have a feeling that this little adventure is going to bring us even _closer…”_

Strade curled his fingers up into her hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her face closer to his as he spoke. He finished by teasingly licking her slightly parted lips and grabbing her by the shoulders to turn her around and send her upstairs with a harsh smack on the ass, making her yelp. He tasted like maple syrup and black coffee.

Y/N found herself nearly swooning as she shakily climbed the steps, one hand gripping the railing for support. _What a man._

A few minutes later, Ren quietly came into their room while Y/N was filling the duffel bag with enough clothes for a few days. Even though it was summer, she was making sure to pack long-sleeved tops so she could cover the shock bracelet she would have to constantly wear. She hoped the A/C in Strade’s car worked well.

“Here…”

She looked over her shoulder to see him holding out a fuzzy, pink throw pillow in the shape of a smiling heart. It was his favorite one.

“You can borrow this. It’s probably gonna be a long car ride, so you can lay on it if he lets you take naps.”

Y/N took it gratefully, snuggling her face into the soft, plush fabric. She could smell the fancy shampoo he used on his fur.

“Thank you, Ren. That’s really sweet of you…I mean it.”

He smiled sheepishly.

“Be careful out there, alright? I mean, who else is gonna kick my ass in DoA?”

She laughed and poked his nose.

“Oh yeah, you better practice then…I wanna see you wipe the floor with me when I get back!”

Ren bared his fangs in a playful growl, his tail swishing back and forth.

“You’re _on!”_

III. Bon Voyage

Everything was packed and ready to go into Strade’s car by mid-afternoon. Curiously, nothing was allowed in the trunk, that space being “reserved” for something else. _Or someone else,_ Y/N thought to herself as he haphazardly tossed their two bags into the backseat, as well as a small cooler for drinks and snacks.

“Gotta stay hydrated!”, he had said brightly as he loaded it up with plastic water bottles and those nasty protein bars he seemed to love. He snuck a few beers into the bottom, under the ice, but he insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand that he would _never_ drive drunk when he saw her worried expression.

“That would be against the law…what do you think I am? Some kinda criminal? Pfftt…”, Strade protested, pretending to be offended she would even think such a thing. He grinned, barely suppressing a crazy peal of laughter. She just shook her head, but couldn’t help but giggle at his endearingly stupid sense of humor, the irony of that statement clearly not lost on her.

“Oh! Almost forgot! The most important thing…”, he said, fishing around in his back pocket and pulling out the shock bracelet, slightly modified for a tighter fit. He grabbed her arm and clasped it around her slender wrist, then hit the button on the remote for her collar, opening it with a click. Strade looked it over for a moment before stuffing it into his duffel bag. 

“I think we’ll bring that one too. So you can wear it…just for _me._ That little bell looks really cute on you!~” He gave her a mischievous look, and slammed the car door shut without taking his half-lidded eyes off of her. Y/N blushed bright pink underneath the bill of her baseball cap.

“Well then, are you ready to hit the road, _liebling?_ You must be pretty excited, huh? _”_ , he asked her as she pulled her sleeve down over the bracelet. She was dressed rather unseasonably in an oversized gray hoodie and a pair of cut-off denim shorts. Between that strange combo and the giant sunglasses, she guessed she probably must have looked ridiculous. 

“Yup, I’m ready! But..can I say “bye” first?”, she asked him, gesturing over to Ren as he stood watching them carefully at the front door, unable to cross the threshold without his collar frying his brain. 

“Ah, yeah..I guess I should too, huh?”, Strade agreed, though a bit reluctantly. She could tell he was itching to get going to…well, wherever the hell they were going. He took her by the hand and pulled her over to where Ren was standing and she noticed that he shrank back when he saw them coming. She stepped inside and his ears perked up as she pulled him into a hug.

“See you in a couple days, OK?” Y/N smiled at him reassuringly. She definitely planned on coming back, and she would bend over backwards to please Strade to make sure that happened. Not that she wouldn’t do that for him anyway..but still. 

“Yeah. See you then. H-Have a good time!” Ren tried to return the smile, but Strade impatiently snatched her wrist to pull her back to his side, curling an arm around her waist possessively. 

“Don’t worry, Ren, I’ll bring her back home in one piece!”, he laughed, leaning forward and pinching his cheeks between his thumb and index finger, squeezing his face hard enough to make his lips pucker. 

“Now, be good…that means not touching anything you’re not supposed to, and staying out of the basement, _ja?”_

Ren nodded meekly and Strade let go of his face, clapping him on the back a couple of times and giving him a little shove backwards. He paused for a minute before pulling out his wallet. “Here ya go, buddy! Order yourself a pizza or something.” He grabbed Ren’s hand, dropping a fat wad of cash into his slightly sweaty palm. There was probably enough there for at least _ten_ pizzas, including breadsticks.

“Thanks, Strade..” He smiled weakly, looking down at the money like he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

“..Just don’t _murder_ the delivery guy, ah? _Ahhh?”_ Strade laughed heartily at his own terrible dad joke, giving Ren an exaggerated wink. He and Y/N chuckled politely before exchanging an exasperated look. 

… _That’s our Strade!_

Once they were on the road, Y/N found herself relaxing a bit. She enjoyed looking out the window at the outside world she had been missing for the past few months and listening to the radio, while Strade tried to sing along (poorly) to some of the upbeat pop songs they heard, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. It was obvious that he didn’t know any of the words, which made her giggle. He glanced over at her as the song ended, flashing her a charming smile that reminded her of the first time she had ridden in his car. How terrified and uncertain she had felt. Oh, how things had changed. 

_“_ What’s the matter? Don’t like my voice?”, he asked her, chuckling good-naturedly. 

“No..I like your voice a lot, actually.”

“Oh _ja,_ is that right?” He lowered the volume on the radio so he could hear her better. She tended to be a tad soft-spoken when voicing her opinions.

“Mmhm..I think your, um…accent is…really _hot..”_ , she admitted to him, shyly averting her eyes, even though his own were on the road. It was a bit easier to talk to him without being inundated by that unnerving stare of his, however much she still loved him looking at her. She cringed a bit, nonetheless, at how it sounded. Why had she told him that? … _because it’s true, that’s why._ To put it bluntly, when Strade spoke to her in German, it turned her pussy into a fucking waterpark.

Strade's playful smile widened, and he cocked one eyebrow at her in amusement. He placed his hand on her knee and slid it high up on her thigh, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

“Oh, I’ve noticed that, _schätzchen._ Trust me, I know _exactly_ what turns you on.. _Ich kann dich zum Schreien bringen..”_ , he purred, his voice low and deep. He pressed his fingers into her skin, irritating a fairly fresh cut he had given her several nights ago. She bit back an involuntary moan and shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling too warm despite the A/C being cranked almost all the way up. Strade let go of her thigh to tug at the collar of his shirt, evidently a little heated himself.

“Anyway, maybe we should change the subject! I don’t really want to have to pull over and fuck you on the side of the road just yet.”

He said this so nonchalantly, as if driving around in broad daylight with a human pet/sex slave in the passenger seat was the most normal thing in the world.

“So…you think your family is still looking for you?”

Her breath caught in her throat and she coughed a bit. His tone was so painfully casual that she hadn’t fully registered what he had said. 

“…Huh?”, she asked him dumbly, blinking at him like a deer in the headlights.

“Your _family._ You never mentioned them, you know..I’m just wondering, that’s all.”, Strade continued on conversationally. They were stopped at a red light, and he took the opportunity to stare at her, his mouth curved up in a curious little smirk, perhaps wondering (or hoping) that he had hit a nerve by asking.

“Oh, uh…well..”, she began, totally caught off guard. She honestly hadn’t thought about her family, or her old life in general, in weeks. At first, she simply assumed that she would never see them again, so maybe it would be less painful if she tried to forget them. Then she just sort of… _did._

“I don’t know, Strade..I guess I didn’t really have much of a family to begin with. My dad left when I was a baby, and I hadn’t seen my mom all that much since I moved in with my roommate. She um…has a drinking problem. I was really only close with my younger brother, but he left home to join the army in the fall and then got deployed overseas. If he even _knows_ I’m gone, he might be the only one that’s trying to find me.” 

She shrugged sadly and looked over at Strade, who appeared to be listening intently, his brow furrowed in concentration. She had forgotten how good of a listener he could be. He nodded slowly, shooting her a look of understanding, though he was still smiling. It was an odd disconnect from the sympathy, real or imagined, that she saw in his eyes.

“Aw…that’s rough, _liebling._ You think maybe they just didn’t…understand you?”

“I guess so…or they just never tried to. To tell you the truth, I feel like you and Ren understand me more than they _ever_ did.” She let out a short, uncomfortable-sounding laugh at this admission.

“Hm..well, that’s fitting, isn’t it? After all, we _are_ your family now.”, Strade reminded her, his hand returning to her leg and spidering his fingers over the jagged, white line of her most prominent scar.

However, she didn’t answer him, instead gazing despondently out the window, spacing out. He dug his nails harshly into the meat of her thigh, making her gasp. 

“Don’t look so down, Y/N! That’s all in the past, _ja?_ We’re gonna have a good time, just you and me.”

She perked up considerably, nodding in agreement. They were stuck in traffic, on the on-ramp to the highway. Apparently, lots of people were in the mindset to travel today, it being the summer vacation months and all. “Yeah, you’re right…but where are we going, though? I don’t think you ever told me..”

Strade leaned over and reached up to touch her face, running his thumb along her jaw. She tentatively placed her hand over his, looking at him adoringly. He smiled at her with a hint of something sinister, a something she couldn’t see through her lovesick, rose-colored filter. 

“Oh _meine liebe,_ haven’t you ever heard of the old saying? It’s not the destination that matters most, it’s the _journey.”_

“I know, but I-”

He cut off her words with a rough hand around her throat, forcing her back against the headrest. Evidently, Strade was _really_ not a fan of that question.

“So just sit back and enjoy the ride!~ and let me take care of the rest..”

“I’m sorry, Strade..”, she apologized quietly, folding her hands in her lap and he just grinned with smug satisfaction, nodding in response as if to say “That’s right. Yeah, you are.” Her sweet, submissive manner never failed to brighten his mood.

By the time they pulled onto the highway, the sun was just starting to go down over the horizon ahead of them, casting a warm, orange glow through the windshield. Y/N had nodded off leaning on the center console, cushioned by Ren’s heart pillow. Strade slipped off her hat, entwining his fingers tightly in her hair. She stirred briefly, making soft noises from underneath his hand. He wondered vaguely how long it would be until they reached the next rest stop. He was getting pretty hungry, and those protein bars weren’t going to be enough to satisfy.

IV. Rest Stop

It was the unmistakably greasy, salty aroma of fast-food wafting into her nostrils that roused Y/N from her nap, but it wasn’t until she was yanked upright by the hood on her sweatshirt, making her gag, that her eyes flew wide open. All was fairly dark, except for the dim glow of the roof-light inside the car. Strade was staring at her with a big, toothy grin on his face, and holding up a paper bag emblazoned with the logo of some burger chain she had never heard of.

“Hey, you’re awake! I just went through a drive-thru, you want some chicken nuggets?”, he asked her, reaching inside and pulling out a small box with a crude illustration of a hen on the lid. She took off her sunglasses and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Oh..uh, yeah! Thanks. I like…nuggets…”, she finished awkwardly, still feeling a bit groggy.

He tossed the box into her lap and then held out a handful of small, plastic containers. 

“I didn’t know what kind of dipping sauce you like, so I got one of each!”, he said cheerily before dumping those on top of her too. Strade unwrapped his burger and tucked into it like a starving animal without further comment, a mix of ketchup and fryer grease dribbling down his chin.

Y/N quietly ate her food, taking care to not get any honey mustard on Strade’s leather seats. Looking around, she observed that they were parked behind a dilapidated brick building with broken windows and dry, brown grass peeking up through the cracks in the pavement. She saw in the rear-view mirror that they were at some kind of highway pit-stop, with a gas station and the fast-food place visible some distance behind them, cars and trucks zooming by on the highway just beyond. Besides the place looking totally abandoned, their car was also shrouded by the heavy overgrowth of trees surrounding the building on three sides. 

Strade finished his burger and licked his fingers clean, even though there was an entire stack of unused napkins sitting between them, and then wiped them on his pants. He snatched up all of the trash and stuffed it back into the paper bag.

“Ya done there?”, he asked her, sounding a touch impatient.

“Almost, I just have one- _mmph!”,_ she started to answer, before he grabbed the last nugget and popped it into her mouth, crumpling the bag up and throwing it behind him into the backseat.

Y/N made a startled little noise, her mouth full, as her seat suddenly dropped back into a flat, reclining position. Strade was eyeing her hungrily despite having just eaten, his hand on the button panel that controlled the power windows. He must have had custom ones installed to control the seats as well.

“Well, let’s just get settled in, shall we?”

He punched the roof-light, enveloping them deeper in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and the distant glow from the gas station. He reached behind his seat, rummaging through his duffel bag. Y/N just blinked in confusion.

“We’re sleeping here? In the car?” She wasn’t sure what she expected. This really _wasn’t_ a vacation, after all.

Strade turned back around, holding a knife in his hand, and she felt her pulse speed up. It was smaller than the good-sized hunting knife that he used at home, but it’s sharp, serrated edge and slight curve were still enough to intimidate. She followed it with her eyes as he climbed over to the passenger side, swinging his leg over hers to straddle her.

“Yup! This is our bed for the night, I’m afraid.” 

His voice wavered slightly as he brushed his fingers over her thighs, drinking in her wide-eyed and adorably puzzled expression beneath him.

“Why aren’t we staying in a…hotel or a motel or…something?”, she asked him carefully as he pulled her hoodie up over her head. It’s not like he couldn’t afford it or anything. The man was _loaded._

Strade leaned down over her, his hair hanging in his face and obscuring his gleaming golden eyes in shadow.

“…because _liebling,_ it would be _awfully_ rude to leave bloodstains on those nice, clean, white sheets, don’t you think?”

He lowered the knife, curving the blade’s tip around the swell of her breast. She let out a hiss of pain that ended in a soft cry, any remaining concerns about hotels quickly evaporating from her mind.

“I knew you’d understand..”, he purred and bent closer, smothering her mouth with his and forcing his tongue down her throat. He groped at her bleeding chest, smearing warm blood all over her breasts and leaving maroon tracks with his restless fingers. He broke the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva dripping back down between her panting lips. 

“…and besides, I didn’t feel like waiting that long to do _this..”,_

Letting out a breathy chuckle, he teased her other breast with the edge of the knife. He pressed down, creating an almost identical wound to the one on the other side, but when he heard her moan out his name, begging him for more, he raked it further down towards her sternum in a candy-cane shape. Fresh blood pooled in her cleavage and he stuck out his tongue to lap it up, slurping noisily. He held her gaze as he dragged his tongue along one of the cuts, then swirled it around her nipple, only to bite down hard as it stiffened in his mouth. 

She screamed and pushed her hands into his hair, squirming helplessly underneath him. He lifted his head and she saw that his lecherous, one-sided grin was stained almost as red as the flush on his face. A single sweaty coil of brown hair hung down the middle of his forehead and she tucked it behind his ear, lovingly stroking his cheek and the small scar on the left side of his chin. 

“Mmm..would you like me to cut you some more, _schätzchen?”_

“Ahhnn..mmhm..yes, Strade..please..”

He narrowed his eyes, baring his teeth at her.

“Ohh…you just _love_ to scream for me, don’t you _dreckige schlampe?”,_ he growled down at her and righted himself long enough to unbutton and remove his shirt, twisting her arms up and pinning them above her head.

“Uh-huhh!”, she squeaked out, chewing her lip nervously as she found herself wobbling on the thin line between anxious and horny that Strade constantly forced her to walk.

He tied her wrists tightly together with his shirt and then sat back to admire the way she looked, restrained, bleeding, and hot with desire in the passenger seat of his car, miles from home. It was a nice change of scenery, and even though it was highly unlikely, there was the added exciting danger of the possibility that someone might catch them. The ignition was off so there was no cool air from the A/C, and they were now both glistening lightly with sweat in the moonlight. 

“Well…you asked for it.”

He pressed the knife to her thigh and she immediately tensed up.

“W-wait, Strade! You probably shouldn’t cut my leg if you want to bring me out in public. I…I only brought shorts…with me.”

“Ahh! Nice save, Y/N!” Strade nodded in acknowledgement, smiling brightly.

“I’ll just take these off then..Your thighs are just…too _lovely_ for me to ignore, you know..”

He yanked her shorts down her hips to her ankles, taking them off and tossing them somewhere into the dark backseat. Then he forced her thighs apart with his knee and pressed the flat side of the blade between her legs, sliding it up and down against her panties. She mewled and lifted her hips up against the knife, trying to create some friction. He pulled it away, noticing a moist spot on the clean metal. 

“Ahhh…Wow, you really _do_ like this, _ja?…”_

Replacing the knife with his hand, he licked her wetness off the blade and then plunged it into the side of her thigh just below her hip, earning him another scream, this time tinged with ecstatic pleasure. He slowly slid the knife out while he rubbed her clit harshly with the heel of his hand, and wiped the blood off on her stomach. She began to half-moan, half-sob from the heavy, thrumming pain in her thigh and he clamped his hand over the wound in a half-assed attempt to staunch the bleeding, but the blood continued to leak between his fingers.

“Don’t worry, _liebling…_ I’ll patch that up for you when we’re done..but for now..”

He leaned down, and brushed his lips against her throat, growling low and deep.

“…I’m just gonna let you _bleed.”_

Strade bit into her tender flesh, making her gasp and choke from the pressure of his teeth on her windpipe. He clawed at her panties, impatiently ripping them off with his ravenous, greedy hands, coated in her blood and leaving trails down her inner thighs that mixed with the sweat and moisture from her wet, wanting pussy. She was so turned-on that she almost came just from him madly groping her like that. 

“Hhaahhh…I’ve been looking forward to playing with you _all…day…”,_ he panted as he released her from his jaws, leaving deep bite marks that would no doubt darken into a bruise later on. He ran a finger over them, gently, while undoing his belt. His cock had been straining against his pants, painfully hard and throbbing from being so tantalizingly close to what he wanted, but unable to do anything because he was driving.

“Me…too…”, Y/N sputtered out after catching her breath. To her surprise, he climbed over her, settling himself comfortably in the backseat after shoving their bags onto the floor. He undid the knot holding her wrists together and she sat up, looking over at him with hazy lust in her eyes. She could no longer see his face that well from this angle, but the moon still lit up his crooked, devilish grin like a jack-o-lantern. He patted his leg, inviting her to sit on his lap. She pulled herself up and over to his side on the backseat, but before she could climb on top of him, Strade grabbed her head and forced her mouth down on to his cock, jabbing it against the back of her throat with a low groan of satisfaction. He twisted a fistful of her hair between his fingers and began to pull her head up and down, listening to her choked moans as she struggled to swallow around his thick shaft. 

After a minute or two, he pulled her back up and wrapped his arms around her waist to reel her in to sit on his lap. She tried to lower herself down on top of him, but he tightened his grip on her hips, holding her just out of reach and teasing her soaked entrance with the tip. She made a cute, frustrated sound and he chuckled darkly, leaning forward to glide his hot tongue along her cheekbone and taste the salt in her sweat.

“Don’t be greedy, now..Aren’t you forgetting something?…”

He reached back down to his bag and pulled out her shock collar, shaking it a little next to her ear so they could both hear the bell jingle. She could only watch helplessly as Strade clasped it closed around her neck with a click. He smirked at the innocent, pleading look on her face, eyes glazed over with need for him, cheeks pink, and hair nicely tousled. He loved the way his pet looked like that, wearing nothing but her collar and a sweet, obedient little smile. 

“There we go! Perfect…”

He flicked the bell once and then slammed her down, filling her tight cunt to the hilt. She cried out loudly and pressed her hands against his chest as he bounced her up and down, breathing hard and cursing in German under his heavy breath.

“ _Scheiße…Du bist so enge…”_

Strade stared intensely into her eyes as he fucked her with no mercy, narrowing his own to faintly glowing, yellow slivers, but never actually blinking. He smeared the blood from her leaking stab wound all over her body, finally using it as lubricant to tend to her aching clit. It was almost too much for her to handle and she threw her head back, exhaling a shaky moan, her thighs trembling around his hips. His hand snuck up her back, closing around her neck above the collar and pulling her towards him until their foreheads touched. 

At the same time, he thrusted up and into her once with extra force, simply holding her down on top of him.

“Tell me Y/N…who’s _mein kleine kätzchen?~”_

Timidly, more like a mouse than a cat, she answered him.

“….I am…”

“…and who do you belong to? I wanna hear you _say_ it.”

That threatening edge in his voice spurred her on.

“ _…you,_ Strade…I’m yours. Always..y-your little..kitten…”

He flashed his teeth in the dark with a smug grin, and a low, sinister laugh rumbled up from his chest while he rammed into her a few more times, pulling out frustratingly slow after each thrust.

“Y’know, it’s a little cramped in here. C’mon, let’s go…”, he said, opening the door and carrying her across the tiny parking lot over to the outside of the building. He dropped her down on to her unsteady feet and kissed her forcefully, pinning her against the brick facade, the rough, filthy surface scraping uncomfortably against her bare back.

“But…what if someone sees us?”, she asked, looking up at him with genuine worry.

His lustful smile curved up in the corner in that certain way that always drove her wild, and she had to bite back a moan as he answered her with barely any hesitation.

“Simple! If anyone comes over here, then we will give them a _show!~…_ ”, he said playfully, his voice rising and falling in a sing-song tone before turning her around and bending her over. She braced herself with the sagging frame of a windowsill, holding on for dear life as Strade hammered into her from behind. 

“It’ll…. _ahh_ …be the last _thing…_ they ever… _mmmhh_ … _SEE!!”,_ he growled through tightly clenched teeth, punctuating every few words with a brutal, unforgiving thrust.

Strade dug his nails into her hips, raking her flesh savagely as he dragged her ass back against him, forcing her to teeter on her tip-toes while she struggled to hold herself up. His movements intensified, becoming more erratic as he neared his climax.

_“Hrrgghh…fffuckk…!!…”_ , he snarled and lunged forward to gnaw on her soft shoulder, causing Y/N to moan long and loud from the delicious pain of Strade’s bite and sending her careening over the edge as she came with him almost in tandem.

She felt his cock pulsate deep inside of her, filling her to the brim with his hot release, and he pushed her straight up against the building, pressing his body against her back and panting into her messy hair as he tried to regain his composure. He slipped himself out of her and she felt his cum ooze out from between her shaky legs, coating her thighs. Strade tilted her head to the side and kissed her neck affectionately, feeling her entire body quiver beneath him. 

_“Du shmeckst so Süße, meine liebe…”,_ he rasped lazily into her ear, pressing his warm, wet tongue into her skin as they both basked in the afterglow, letting the relatively chill summer night air cool the glaze of sweat on their bare flesh.

Finally, he took her hand and peeled her off the wall, leading her back to the car to clean up and tend to her wounds. Not long after, they were both nodding off, Strade stretched out in the driver’s seat with Y/N curled up on top of him, one strong arm encircling her and holding her down tight against him. With his shirt draped over her as a makeshift blanket, she ended up getting a better night’s rest than she thought she would spending it in a car. 

The wind gently rustled the leaves hanging over the roof, making the moonlight appear to sparkle as it washed over their exhausted, but content faces. Y/N snuggled into his warm chest, nuzzling her head up under his chin, and he grumbled in his half-conscious state, a small, sleepy smile teasing the corner of his mouth briefly before he started to snore. 

Despite the nagging pain radiating from the line of stitches below her hip, she honestly couldn’t have been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translation Key
> 
> liebchen - term of endearment, i.e. darling, sweetheart
> 
> Gut - Good.
> 
> Zwing mich nicht dich zu bestrafen. - Don't make me punish you.
> 
> schatzi - dear, honey
> 
> liebling - darling, favorite
> 
> mein kleine hase - my little bunny
> 
> schätzchen - honey, darling, baby...typically means Strade is feeling some type o' way ;)
> 
> Ich kann dich zum Schreien bringen. - I can make you scream.
> 
> meine liebe - my love
> 
> dreckige schlampe - dirty slut
> 
> Scheiße…Du bist so enge… - Shit...You're so tight...
> 
> mein kleine kätzchen - my little kitten
> 
> Du shmeckst so Süße, mein liebe… - You taste so sweet, my dear...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strade and Y/N are woken up early by an annoying stranger.
> 
> Jeez, can't a guy get a little shut-eye around here?

V. Rude Awakening

_Knock._

_Knock, knock, KNOCK._

The sound of insistent knuckles rapping repeatedly on the glass. Y/N slowly turned her face towards the driver’s side window, her vision bleary and her mind clouded with interrupted dreams. As her eyes focused in the morning sunlight, the man outside the car knocked again, harder. Demanding. He rotated his fist in a reeling motion in an effort to get her to roll down the window, and she yelped in surprise, clutching Strade’s shirt against her breasts with one hand and desperately shaking his shoulder with the other.

“Strade, wake up! Please! There’s someone outside!”

Strade snorted loudly, gurgling on some drool that had collected in his open mouth as he slept, and his eyes fluttered open as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Mmm…whuh…?”

He scratched at his scraggly bed-head, squeezing one eye shut against the unwelcome sunlight streaming through the trees. Y/N saw the intruder press his face against the window, using his hands as blinders to see inside.

“Oh, I see you in there…Get out here, _now!”_

She turned her face away, anxiously leaning back into Strade’s chest. He finally saw why she was so frightened and he narrowed his eyes at the mustachioed face in his window, curling a protective arm around Y/N without really thinking.

“Hey buddy, ya mind? We were kinda sleeping here!”, he barked out, visibly annoyed.

“I don’t care if you’re painting the goddamn Mona Lisa in there, you’re trespassing! So you either come out and explain yourself, or I’m callin’ the cops.”

His voice became slightly muffled as he stepped back from the car, folding his arms expectantly. Strade grumbled under his breath and rolled his eyes.

“Alright, alright…” 

He held up a finger to signal that he needed a moment, then zipped up his pants and threw on his shirt. 

“Get dressed, Y/N. I might need your help in a minute.”

“OK, but wha-“

“Shh… _liebling._ Remember our rules, _ja?_ Stay quiet, stay close, do as I _say.”_

His tone was firm, but he cupped her face gently in his hand as he spoke, then pushed her off his lap over to the passenger seat. He finished buttoning his shirt and swung open the door to confront the gruff-looking man waiting outside. He was short and stumpy-looking, probably in his early-mid fifties, with sparse, graying hair and sunburnt skin. He wore overalls covered in greasy, dark stains. _Ah, a mechanic._

Strade graced him with his best friendly smile, that “hey, I know you’re mad but that’s fine, we can still get along because I’m super-nice!” smile that he was so good at faking.

“OK! So what’s on your mind, buddy?”

The man frowned, raising an annoyed gray eyebrow at Strade’s unwarranted cheeriness.

“Well, _pal…_ you and your little honey-pie in there are trespassing on _my_ property! I own the gas station and auto shop, as well as this old, abandoned lot. This ain’t a campin’ ground, y’know!”

Strade held up his hands and furrowed his brow with mock remorse.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize! You see, my companion and I were traveling pretty late last night when I started having some engine trouble, so I pulled over in here. We were both _sooo_ tired though, we just had to rest for the night. You understand, _ja?”_

The mechanic, who was wearing a faded name-tag on the bib of his overalls labelled “My name is: AL, How can I help?”, stood his ground, keeping his arms folded stubbornly over his gut, but his expression softened the tiniest bit. He nodded along with the bullshit sob-story and Strade could tell that he was slowly, but surely buying it. He tilted his head slightly, laying on the charm thick. 

“I was, of course, intending to bring my car to your no-doubt _fine_ establishment in the morning to remedy the issue.”

His eyes suddenly lit up. An idea.

“Oh! Perhaps you could..take a look right now? You know, since you’re already here! That way, if it’s something simple, I won’t have to have it towed over to your shop for no reason. You look like someone that _really_ knows what they’re doing, unlike me! _Hah!”_

Strade leaned back against the door, smirking with satisfaction at his own shameless lies as Al relaxed his posture, an easy smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

Meanwhile, Y/N had gotten dressed and carefully climbed out the passenger side, circling around the back of the car and shyly clinging to Strade’s offered arm. Al was apparently the kind of guy that considered women to be of not much consequence and so he didn’t acknowledge her presence. That was just fine by her.

Al let out a wheezy guffaw of laughter and wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. It was already getting pretty hot, despite still being so early in the day.

“Weh-hell! Why didn’t ya say so? I’ll do that for you, just pop the hood and let’s take a gander.”

Strade’s smile widened, showing just a hint of his sharp canines as he hit the button on his key fob. The hood of the car swung open smoothly and the three of them moved over to peer inside. Before he could get a good look and eventually realize there wasn’t anything wrong with this gorgeous, expensive-looking ride, Al turned to Strade, chuckling and shaking his head.

“Funny thing is, I actually came over here ‘cuz my overnight guy said he heard screaming comin’ from the woods last night. Heh. Musta been them _crackheads_ that sometimes hole up in this building here.”

Strade laughed back, clapping Al on the shoulder like he was an old friend. Y/N hung back a little behind him, realizing his throaty chuckle rumbled with a twinge of sinister glee. That was the sound of genuine laughter.

“Alrighty, let’s take a look-see…”, Al mumbled, leaning over. Y/N silently watched, intrigued, as Strade tensed his shoulders, his fingers twitching, and his biceps flexing underneath his shirt-sleeves. He reached up to grab the edge of the hood with both hands while poor ol’ Al searched in vain for an engine problem that didn’t actually exist.

“Huh. That’s weird, everything looks alright here. You sure y-“, he began, his voice rising a little in mounting confusion.

“You’re just not looking hard enough.”, Strade growled out, and slammed the hood down with surprising force on top of the other man’s back, forcing an exaggerated “OOF” sound from him as the wind was knocked out of his lungs.

Strade giggled, starting to pant a little bit, and looked over his shoulder at Y/N’s wide-eyed, but not very surprised expression. He lifted the hood just enough to allow the dazed mechanic to try and lift himself up, only to slump further down and drop to his knees. 

“Oh, sorry _freund!~_ You know how it is…My hand must have _slipped!”_

Strade’s eyes burned with excitement and he banged the hood down again as the last word left his lips, this time on the back of Al’s balding, gray head. There was an audible crack, as something gave way in the old man’s skull. Strade turned around, leaning his hands back on the car briefly and favored Y/N with a cocky little grin. She thought he looked like he was posing for a calendar or something. _This Year’s Sexiest Psychopathic Murderers!,_ she thought to herself, and had to stifle a giggle behind her hand.

Finally, he lifted it up one last time, carelessly shoving the unconscious man’s limp form off of his car and onto the ground, red stains smearing on his front bumper and headlight on the way down. Blood seeped heavily from his split scalp, pooling in the divots in the pavement underneath him. Y/N looked impassively down at Al, then back up at Strade. He was grinning proudly, like a little boy that wants his mom to hang his macaroni art on the fridge.

“How did I know you were going to do that?”, she sighed, shaking her head.

He just shrugged, and kicked absently at Al’s pudgy side with the toe of his boot, watching the spreading puddle of blood steadily expand. Then he looked back up at her from underneath his lustily lowered eyelids, a dusting of color warming his smiling face. Evidently the smell of Al’s spilt blood cooking in the sun was waking him up more than his knuckles on the window ever could.

“I guess you know me a little _too_ well, _liebling._ Now help me get our buddy here over to that building. I’ve got a plan…”

VI. Barbecue for One

Shortly afterwards, the two of them managed to pile Al’s hefty frame into the backseat of the car with the help of their combined strength. Strade was a reasonably well-built guy, if a little short, but even with his muscular arms and powerful shoulders, he had noticeable difficulty trying to move the rotund, much older man’s (not quite) dead weight on his own.

He parked alongside the battered metal back door of the abandoned building, then got out and stood in front of it, sizing it up and trying to gauge how much force it might take to break it down once he confirmed that it was locked. Y/N peeked into the backseat, checking on Al. To her horror, he had started emitting low, garbled choking noises, just barely clinging to life. She called out the window to Strade, a hint of panic in her voice. 

“Umm, I think he’s awake! W-What should I do?!”

Strade reeled back and kicked the rusted combination lock on the door’s handle, feeling it give a little under his heavy boot. He answered her calmly, without looking back as he prepared to deliver another blow to the stubborn lock.

“Eh, don’t worry!~ ..He won’t be for long..”

He tried again, this time with more force, snarling under his breath on impact, then baring his teeth in a triumphant grin as the lock snapped apart and crumbled to the ground. The door creaked open just a sliver and he kicked it unnecessarily hard, swinging it wide on its loudly protesting hinges. He turned around and gave Y/N a cheery thumbs up and she smiled back, relieved.

Then he unhurriedly walked around to the other side of the car and crawled across the backseat to shove Al onto the ground and through the doorway into the grimy, dimly-lit building. Finally, they were able to roll him into the middle of the dirty floor, panting with a mix of exertion and breathless excitement. Strade used an old bungee cord he found lying in the corner to wrap around Al’s mouth like a gag, just in case he decided he still had the strength to scream.

This building looked like it probably used to be an earlier location for the much-larger current auto shop, long-since abandoned, with various rusty tools strewn about and pieces of torn, faded signage flaking off the walls and scattered like sad confetti across the floor. Strade sighed contentedly, appearing to be right at home in this dingy, musty, environment. And why wouldn’t he? After all, it shared many qualities with his own beloved chop-shop. 

Al was indeed awake now, but he didn’t seem cognizant of what was really going on around him, which was really no surprise considering how much blood had initially poured from his fractured skull. He mostly just groaned incoherently around the thick cord in his teeth, his glazed-over eyes rolling lethargically up at them while they decided what to do next. Strade looked around thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one finger, and then smiled wide when he spotted a red, plastic gasoline canister sitting on top of an old filing cabinet with several drawers missing. He strolled over, stepping on the yellowed papers littering the floor to grab it, and Y/N scurried after him to keep up with the invisible ten-foot leash he had her tied to.

They glanced at one another with a look of mutual understanding over their latest victim struggling around sluggishly at their feet as Strade unscrewed the cap off the top of the canister. There wasn’t much gas left inside, but his unfailing confidence assured him it would be enough to get the job done. Y/N took a few steps back as he shook out the contents all over Al’s body, further staining his hideous overalls and drizzling on his confused, ashy-pale face like a topping on a grotesque sundae.

Strade whipped the empty container off to the side and fished his wallet out of his back pocket, producing a matchbook from the center fold. He struck a match, grinning eerily at Y/N over the tiny flame, and beckoned her closer, slowly curling his finger towards him in that seductive way that never failed to attract her to him like a high-powered magnet.

“C’mere _schatzi…_ don’t ya wanna do the honors?” 

The intensity of his stare immediately told her this wasn’t even a question. 

She reached out and took the lit match, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand as they touched, making her shiver. She found herself mesmerized by the way the firelight accentuated the strange gold tint in Strade’s unsettlingly beautiful eyes. He licked his lips eagerly and they both took a deep breath as Y/N tossed the flickering match at the soon-to-be corpse of the unfortunate mechanic. There was a sudden whooshing sound and a blast of heat as the body immolated, illuminating the dull interior of the building with blazing oranges and yellows. 

The two of them stood quietly side-by-side, watching as the old man made brief, strangled noises that could maybe qualify as screams if only they didn’t sound so weak, but cutting off abruptly as he began to resemble an overstuffed sausage that had been left on the grill too long. The smell was horrendous and Y/N covered her nose and mouth with one hand, breathing into the oversized sleeve of her hoodie. Strade squeezed her opposite hand excitedly, grinning like an absolute maniac and bouncing a little on his heels. 

_Down boy,_ Y/N thought humorously as she studied his painfully handsome profile. Here in the hellish glow of the fire before them, he looked more than ever like he could be the devil himself.Feeling flustered, she nervously chewed her lip and sidled closer to him, watching the flames dance hypnotically in his wild, unblinking gaze.

“It’s so pretty, isn’t it?…Strade?… _Strade….?”_

As if released from a trance, his entire body twitched, and he suddenly noticed her resting against his shoulder and looking up at him with innocent concern. He smirked and tilted her chin up higher, leaning down to kiss her almost tenderly and his fingertips brushed the side of her neck with a feather-light touch. This rare, sweet little moment between them was, of course, quite short-lived as he broke the kiss by biting down harshly on her lower lip, pulling and splitting the skin. He closed his fingers around her throat, looming over her with a domineering grin.

_“Du siehst hübscher aus mit Blut auf deiner Haut."_

She moaned softly as he licked up the blood trickling from her mouth, half-hoping that he would be crazy enough to throw her down on the filthy, oil-stained floor and have his twisted, selfish way with her by this morbidly romantic firelight. Her desire for him burned far hotter and brighter than even the rapidly-charring remains of the man they had just murdered.

Instead, Strade turned her around by her shoulders before she could protest, giving her a little shove back towards the car. 

“Come on, _meine liebchen._ We should just let Al enjoy his private barbecue in peace, _ja?”_

She felt her heart sink in disappointment, but she had to admit that Strade was right, shockingly doing the sensible thing for once. The small room was quickly filling with thick, dark smoke that reeked of overcooked meat, stinging her lungs. He followed close behind her, placing a guiding hand on her lower back as they made their getaway.

They never once looked back.

Strade drove calmly away from the abandoned lot, passing the auto shop and waving cheekily out his open window at the young gas station attendant. Nobody even noticed the black, putrid-smelling pillars of smoke billowing up from the shattered windows until after they pulled onto the highway, merging seamlessly with that morning’s light traffic and speeding away without a second thought. 

He and Y/N exchanged a heated, mischievous glance, giggling like naughty children and feeling elated at having gotten away with something so risky in public. In broad daylight, no less. They reveled in the same intoxicating high they had been regularly chasing together in the deep shadows of his basement, both on and off camera. She smiled to herself, feeling as if she could be the Bonnie to his deeply fucked-up Clyde, but she wasn’t presumptuous enough to believe that Strade saw her as any sort of equal. Still, that fleeting, sensual kiss they had shared as the flames flailed and writhed was enough to allow her to at least hope for the time being.

He cranked up the volume on the radio, singing along loudly and obnoxiously out-of-tune with some retro Europop hit from the nineties. She laid back against the headrest, feeling the summer sun warm her face and listened to his crappy singing, just allowing him to take her wherever their next destination may lead them to. She didn’t care where, the car could plummet into the depths of hell right now and she would still be perfectly content as long she could be by his side. She knew they’d both be going there eventually, anyway, if such a place truly existed.

Strade’s wavering voice cracked as he attempted to nail a particularly high note, causing them both to collapse with laughter and he grasped the steering wheel with both hands as he cackled like a hyena. _Fuck,_ he sounded unbearably sexy.

As she watched him wipe a mirthful tear from the corner of his eye and playfully elbow her arm, joking with her: “What’s so funny, _liebling?_ I thought you _liked_ my voice!”, she had to stop herself from causing a massive multi-car pile up by jumping on his dick right then and there.

“Hey, Strade?…how far is the next rest stop?…I, um…need to…use the bathroom…?”

Y/N’s lie wasn’t very convincing and he side-eyed her knowingly, immediately changing lanes to get off at the next exit. He reached over, clawing at her scarred-up inner thigh and growling low in the back of his throat.

_“Oh?_ Well, you’re in luck…‘cause we’re already there…”

Strade suddenly and violently shoved his hand down between her legs, smirking at how wet he was making her and she gasped at the unexpected pleasure as she arched into his touch.

“Tsk..tsk… _du freches, freches kleines kätzchen…_ Looks like I’ll have to punish you for making such a _mess_ on my seat. _”_

VII. The Motel

Y/N rubbed gingerly at the tender spot above her collarbone where her shoulder curved up into her neck, her fingertips testing the depth of the individual teeth marks marring the delicate skin. She squinted at her slowly de-fogging reflection. The harsh bathroom light certainly made the resulting bruise look much worse than it actually was, but she draped her hair over it nonetheless, despite being a touch too short to effectively cover it.

Strade seized her waist from behind, grinning slyly at her in the mirror and playfully biting her other shoulder, making her wince.

“Aw…did I bite you too hard, _schätzchen?_ I can’t help myself. You just look so _good_ with some bruises.”

He smelled like cheap hotel soap and hot metal, which was admittedly nicer than the bathroom itself. It was relatively clean, but every now and then she caught a faint whiff of piss that the bowl of potpourri on the back of the toilet couldn’t do much about.

After taking an unexpected detour for the sole purpose of finding a suitable place for a quick fuck, Strade decided on a whim to get the two of them a room in the seedy-looking motel advertised on a drooping, faded sign just before the next exit on the highway. Y/N had asked him, shyly, when she would be able to take a shower, and what better place _was_ there for him to play rough with her where the evidence wouldn’t get all over the place? The creepy middle-aged clerk behind the check-in desk looked more like someone who would have a murder basement than Strade did, but Y/N had learned from experience that it was best not to judge a book by its blood-stained cover. 

Strade wasted no time throwing their bags on the floor and dragging her into the bathroom, cranking up the faucet. He pinned her back against the wall with his hips, the cool, slick tiles providing little relief from the intense heat of the water pelting their skin and melting them together into one. 

"Ahh...Strade, please..it's...too hot..."

He laughed in her face, a dark, guttural sound just barely audible over the rushing water.

"Ahahahah....Mmm...That's too bad...besides, how else will we get you clean, you _dirty thing?"_

As she wrapped her legs around his waist, he clapped one hand over her mouth to muffle her screams, pressing her tongue down with two fingers and fucked her senseless as the tiny room filled with steam. 

It was just before he stepped back to let her drop to her knees and finish himself all over her face, that he hungrily sank his sharp teeth deep into the crook of her neck with a feral growl. A mix of blood and cum swirled around her shaking legs and disappeared down the drain as he leaned on the wall to catch his breath.

“Ugh, you have no idea how much I needed that. Thanks!”, Y/N sighed happily as they later got settled in their room. 

She towel-dried her hair and slipped into some clean underwear and a comfy t-shirt. Strade took a protein bar from the cooler and flopped gracelessly onto the bed in just a pair of boxer shorts, the bedsprings creaking noisily under his weight.

“Which one, _liebling?_ The shower or…?”

She pretended to think about it.

“Hmm…both!”

He chuckled, shaking his head, and turned on the small CRT television as she climbed up next to him, crawling up under his outstretched arm.

“..Cute.”

“So..what made you want to just stay here so early in the day? It’s only like noontime, isn’t it?”

She looked up at him, resisting the urge to bury her hands in his wavy, brown hair. It always looked so different when he bothered to wash it, invitingly soft and fluffy. Made her kind of jealous.

“Well, we’re actually pretty close to where we wanna be. If we leave…oh say, by nightfall…we could get there via backroads in an hour or two. Best to go when it’s dark, you know.”

She _didn’t_ know, but Y/N wouldn’t dare ask again where “there” really was. She remembered it being a touchy subject for him, guessing that he must have wanted it to be a surprise. Strade always liked to make things “fun”, to keep her on her toes. However, they appeared to be in the middle of nowhere at this particular juncture in their journey, surrounded by thick woodland on all sides. 

“OK, fair enough…Ooh, can we see what free movies they have? Please?”, she asked him politely, as she perused the laminated channel guide.

“Eh. Sure, why not?” 

He unwrapped his snack and held it between his teeth while he flipped to the movie station with his one free hand. Most of the channels flashing by were little more than static, so he just had to stop when they came across a clear broadcast from a local news station, sitting up straighter against the headboard with keen interest. Y/N’s blood ran cold, the fresh bite mark on her shoulder throbbing with her quickened heartbeat. 

The screen showed an aerial view of a burning building at the edge of a forest where some of the trees had also gone up, a cloud of dark smoke permeating the area. 

_“One Dead in Mysterious Abandoned Building Fire”_

As soon as the report transitioned to a woman in a purple blazer holding a microphone and standing in front of a too-familiar gas station, all doubt had been erased.

Strade laughed out loud and pointed at the screen, crumbs falling sloppily from his mouth. Apparently, he found it hilarious.

“Oh, _heyyy!_ Would ya look at that, Y/N? _Wir sind berühmt,_ ahahah!”

She didn’t find it very funny, but she giggled nervously to appease him.

“Ha..wow.. How did that little bit of gasoline do _that_ much damage, though?”

“Think about it. All those old papers everywhere, it must have spread pretty easily that way. Not to mention the dry grass outside.” 

He offered her the last bite of his bar, but she shook her head, suddenly feeling a bit nauseous and he popped it in his mouth, crumpling the wrapper and tossing it on the rug.

“S-Strade…what if they’re looking for us right now? I…I’m scared…There was...a _lot_ of blood.”, Y/N said in a small voice, pressing herself closer into his side. 

He patted her head, reassuringly.

“We’ll be fiiiine, _mein schatz~._ Didn’t I teach you that the best way to make someone disappear is to set them on _fire?”_

She thought about the first time she helped him load some chopped up body parts into his small pottery kiln, and the pile of ashes left over that he just scooped up with a dust pan and unceremoniously dumped in the trash afterwards. Just like that, an entire human being gone.

“…Yes, Strade…” She didn’t sound too convinced.

“You can trust me, I _know_ what I’m doing…Now how about that movie, _ja?”_

He pulled her over into his lap, entwining her legs with his and nuzzling affectionately into her coconut-scented hair as they watched the last half of some generic crime drama. Seeing his handiwork acknowledged by the media had clearly put him in a good mood and so she was eventually able to relax in his arms…until he shoved her off the bed to go look at the take-out menu on the TV stand.

“Let’s grab a bite before hitting the road. It’ll be a while before we get to eat again, _liebling.”_

Strade looked down at her, smirking a little, as she indignantly pulled herself up off the floor. 

“…and you might need your strength.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it was a bit short, but we're getting into the real meat of this saga in the next chapter so this should hopefully be a nice transition...?
> 
> German Translation Key
> 
> liebling - darling, favorite
> 
> freund - friend
> 
> schatzi - dear, honey
> 
> Du siehst hübscher aus mit Blut auf deiner Haut. - You look prettier with blood on your skin.
> 
> mein liebchen - my love, darling, sweetheart
> 
> du freches, freches kleines kätzchen - you naughty, naughty little kitten
> 
> schätzchen - honey, darling, baby
> 
> Wir sind berühmt! - We are famous!
> 
> mein schatz - my treasure


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid...uh..."heroes?"...set out for their final destination in the dead of night. What awaits them out there in the wilderness and the dark?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just...insanity. 
> 
> Read with caution, some shit is about to go DOWN~
> 
> :)

VIII. Cravings

After a quick dinner from a mom ’n pop sandwich shop about a mile from the motel, they were back on the road, narrow, winding, and dark. Strade insisted on eating in the car again, keeping a low profile despite being the only customers in the dining area when they went to pick up their food.

Y/N spotted a glass display case full of different kinds of cupcakes by the front counter, and her mouth watered at the sight of the swirls of chocolate frosting and colorful sprinkles. She tugged on Strade’s shirt-sleeve to get his attention because she wasn’t allowed to speak in public without his permission first. She pointed to the case and he smiled and nodded, amused by the hopeful light in her eyes.

“Can you, ah, add two cupcakes to that order? My buddy’s got a sweet tooth, ahaha!”

He didn’t ask what kind she wanted, but it was better than nothing.

Y/N nervously picked at their leftover french fries as they drove through the seemingly endless stretch of woods. There were no streetlights, and no other cars on the road despite not being that late. They sat in silence. Strade hadn’t put on the radio and appeared to be deeply focused, his demeanor oddly serious. She thought about asking him if he was OK, but decided against it, not wanting to break his concentration.

She turned her gaze out the window at the unchanging black wall of trees passing by, wondering where they would end up. She didn’t flinch when she felt his hand on her leg because it was like he was he trying to comfort her in some way, rather than seduce or intimidate. She looked back at him and his eyes met hers briefly, his expression somewhat hard to read in the dark. 

“Are you scared, Y/N?” He wasn’t smiling.

She didn’t want to lie to him. “Yes.” No hesitation.

“I want to tell you there’s no need to worry, but…well, this could be dangerous.”

“…How dangerous?” _What could be more dangerous than you?,_ is what she really wanted to say, but he was in no mood for jokes. Amazingly.

Strade didn’t answer her, instead taking her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers. 

“Just…stay close to me, and keep your mouth shut, _kleine.”_

“…And you’ll protect me?”

The pleading sweetness in her voice made him want to lunge over to her side and wrap his fingers around her throat, squeezing until her tears dripped onto his hands and her pretty lips turned as blue as the frosting on the cupcake he bought her.

“Right, Strade?”

He returned his hand to the steering wheel.

“Of course, _ja.”,_ he muttered. He needed to get himself under control. Sure, this wasn’t anything new for him. He had driven out here many times before, practically salivating at the thought of what he would be bringing home to his basement, picturing them gagged with duct tape and struggling uselessly around in his trunk. What he would be doing to them once he got them alone…but he couldn’t be dealing with these… _urges_ right now. These cravings that couldn’t be satisfied by sex, no matter how rough. 

It just wasn’t enough.

He wrung the steering wheel between both fists like he was trying to close off someone’s windpipe, clenching his teeth. He cranked up the A/C to try to relieve the heat roiling in his gut and behind his eyes. 

Shit, why had he brought her? Out here in the wilderness, where no one could hear them, where no one would find them. He could do whatever he wanted, the opportunity was there.

Strade caught Y/N looking at him in his peripheral vision, hugging Ren’s pillow to her chest and shivering a bit. 

“I’m a little chilly, do you think you could please turn down the A/C?”

Fuck. So polite…so… _weak._ Despite the hardened facade she put on during streams or in front of anyone he brought down to the shop bound in chains, rope, or zip-ties, she was always weak for _him._ It drove him absolutely batshit in the best possible way. He fumbled at the knob, turning it down for her, and she smiled apologetically.

“Thanks. Sorry, Strade. I just get cold easily.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind, _liebling._ Hold you a little…tighter…at night.”, he purred, a one-sided grin twitching on his flushed face unconsciously. She couldn’t see it.

“I…yeah, I’d like that. You’re always…so warm.”

Even with the cool air still blowing in his face, he was sweating. No. Not now. They were almost _there._ There, he would be able to find what he was looking for, what he needed. He wouldn’t have to worry about doing what he so desperately wanted to do to _her_ because there would be someone else to take the punishment. 

Just a few more miles. _Come on, you can do it, buddy._

Despite his best efforts, Strade was forced to pull over and wordlessly drag Y/N out of the car. He pushed her to her knees with her back pressed against the passenger side door and drilled his cock down her tight throat. He didn’t think he could handle any other way. If he heard her moan or say his name even once, he would have had to bury her somewhere out in these woods.

Or maybe leave her as carrion for the bears and wolves, if there was anything left. After what he was thinking about doing to her, all bets were off on that one.

IX. R4N5OM

As they closed the last mile between the unexpected pit-stop and their destination, Strade began to feel slightly better, his confidence steadily returning the closer they got. He was even able to crack a few jokes that Y/N tried to giggle at despite her sore throat. She didn’t mind bearing the pain though, as long as he was happy.

Soon they were turning off the main road onto an even narrower dirt path winding up a hill deep in the forest. Finally, there it was. A small one-floor cabin lit only by Strade’s high-beams and the dim glow visible through one of its tiny windows. It reminded Y/N of the cabin from an old horror movie Ren had shown her once, where all the furniture came to life and blood that looked like slightly watery ketchup had gushed from the walls as if fired out of a cannon. 

“Well…we’re here. Put on your sunglasses. And keep your wits about you.”, Strade told her as they both got out of the car. 

He reached into the back seat to get a couple of things out of his duffel bag, and she clung to his side, frightened by the pitch-dark woods surrounding them. One item was the skull-face bandanna that he normally wore while he was streaming, which he tied around his face, adding to the old-school horror atmosphere of this situation. The other was a black, metal case. He popped it open, revealing a small handgun and some bullets cradled within individual compartments inside. Everything about it looked barely used, shiny and almost new, and her eyes widened in shock. She didn’t know Strade even owned a gun. It just never seemed like his style. He loaded it up and stuffed it in his back pocket, covering it with his shirt-tail. 

“I know what you’re thinking..and you’re right, you know. I hate using these, but…knives just don’t really mean much here.”

She nodded and they started making their way up to the front door.

“It’s too quick, right?”

“Hm?” Strade knocked on the heavy wooden door with his fist.

“Guns. They kill too easily.”, Y/N answered him matter-of factly.

She saw a hint of a proud smile in his eyes. “Shhh..I hear someone coming.”

The door creaked open just enough for a pair of eyes to peek through, looking them up and down warily.

“Code?”, came the bored, flat affect of the man on the other side, slightly muffled by the black balaclava covering his nose and mouth. Strade took out his wallet, producing a wrinkled, yellow post-it note, and passed it through the crack for the man to take. After a second, he grunted in acknowledgement and unlatched the chain above his head, swinging the door open and ushering them inside.

It may have seemed scary on the outside, but the interior of the cabin was warm, clean, and even somewhat cozy, despite being sparsely furnished. The only things decorating the walls in the large main room were a clock, a calendar, and a gold-plated fire-axe mounted above the lit fireplace. A plaque underneath it read: “Happy Retirement, Boss!” Its bright, polished surface looked incredibly out of place compared to the overall minimalistic look the rest of the cabin seemed to be going for. 

“So, you B3G_CRY? Boss says you’re a good customer. One o’ his best.”, the man remarked, leaning up against the wall by the calendar. He was tall and lanky with spiked bleach-blonde hair, an eyebrow piercing, and a pistol on his belt. His dark eyes regarded them with skepticism and overt distrust. Strade eyed him right back, but tried to remain friendly.

“That’s right. You recognize me, _ja?_ Are you…a fan?”

He raised an eyebrow, no-doubt grinning behind his bandanna.

The other man snort-laughed and slapped his knee, his demeanor changing completely as he let down his guard.

“Pfft…yeah, bro! I’ve been watching your shit for years! I’m not gonna lie, I kinda look up to you. Most people in your line of work don’t last this long before the feds catch up with ‘em.”

Strade chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. Aw shucks, so modest.

“Ahh..I just do what comes natural.”

“Shit, man…Wow. Hey, I know you too!”, he exclaimed, pointing at Y/N, and she shrank back behind Strade automatically as he came near her.

“You’re that sweet piece o’ ass that’s been guesting on his streams lately! I didn’t recognize ya right away with those shades…and y’know…not being all covered in blood n’ shit.”

She just stared at him through her giant sunglasses as he leaned forward, studying her curiously and eyeing her bare legs with no shame. Strade watched him carefully, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit.

“What are you being so shy for, baby? I’ve already seen you _naked!”_

He uttered a nasty laugh and tried to grab her arm, but Strade shoved him backwards, glaring at him and clenching his fists.

“She doesn’t talk to strangers.”, he warned him, snarling through his teeth.

Y/N blushed furiously, hiding her face against Strade’s shoulder. It was true that she had let him fuck her on camera more than once. One of his subs even paid extra to see her ride a guy reverse-cowgirl style while Strade paced around them, slowly sawing off his limbs little by little. In the heat of the moment, it never really seemed like all those people were watching her because Strade could always make it feel very… _intimate._ Like it was just the three of them, and no one else.

The man stepped back against the wall, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. 

“Hey, hey, alright! Sorry, man…”

Strade ignored his apology, wanting to just get down to business.

“So, where’s your boss?”

“You mean [REDACTED]? He had to step out. Said there was some kind of emergency at one of the other houses. He should be back in a few days, but til’ then…he left _me_ in charge.”

He reached out his hand.

“I’m R4N5OM, by the way.”

“Charmed, I’m sure…”, Strade muttered and pushed past him impatiently, leading Y/N by the wrist along with him. He stopped by the padlocked door on the opposite side of the room, waiting expectantly for R4N5OM to open it.

“Save the small talk, _kumpel._ I’m just here for the merch.”

The other man had already left a poor first impression on him by daring to touch his property without asking. The username sounded familiar to him, as well. He recalled this person repeatedly spamming chat with ridiculous requests…without even donating a cent. Annoying little shit, really. All in all, Strade found himself wanting to make this transaction as quick as possible.

R4N5OM pulled a keyring from his pocket and unlocked the door, placing his hand on the knob. Just before he opened the door, he glanced down at Strade, who was looking around the room restlessly, and then lingered on Y/N with a hint of malice. She was hard to read with her eyes covered like that. He remembered an old saying from when he was a kid.

_You should never meet your heroes._

X. Damaged Goods

“Well…here. Take your pick.”

Inside of what appeared to be a small bedroom, with only one bed and three dirty sleeping bags spread out on the floor, there were four terrified, sickly-looking creatures that maybe could have been considered actual people at one point. Now they just resembled breathing cadavers. Y/N swallowed hard, starting to feel sick. She had seen some awful shit, but this was _bad…_ like something you would have seen in a WWII concentration camp.

There were three girls and one boy, no older than seventeen years old. The smallest and most frail of the group looked maybe thirteen. All were dressed in shabby, ill-fitting clothes, their hair stringy and filthy. They looked _diseased._ Three of them sat huddled on the bed, their sunken eyes wide with fear and making incoherent noises. The fourth, one of the older girls, lay sprawled out on the floor with her hair over her face. She wasn’t even on top of a sleeping bag.

Strade sighed in irritation and folded his arms. He gave R4N5OM a dirty look and tilted his head in the direction of the unconscious young woman on the floor. 

“I, ah…think that one’s dead. You might want to take care of it.”

The other man shrugged impassively.

“I dunno…She was fine this morning.”

Strade lowered his head, glaring up at R4N5OM with narrowed eyes. He was starting to lose his patience with this amateur.

“Listen, buddy. Your _product_ appears to be of very low quality. And they’re underage. I don’t work with _die Kinder.”_

Taken aback by Strade’s blunt assessment, R4N5OM straightened up, gesturing with one hand at the dying children in front of them.

“Aw c’mon, I thought you liked ‘em weak! Easier to handle, right?”

Strade rolled his eyes and made an exasperated noise out the side of his mouth.

“I like them to _last, freundchen._ None of them would even survive the ride home with me in their current state. _Scheiße,_ do you even _feed_ the poor things?”

R4N5OM seemed flustered, struggling with what to say. It didn’t seem like he knew the first thing about dealing with an unhappy customer.

“Uh…y-yeah…I do, but…”, he stuttered nervously, avoiding Strade’s piercing, accusatory stare.

He thrust an angry finger at the center of the taller man’s chest.

“I think I’ve seen enough. I’ll be honest, I don’t think I feel so good about doing business with you right now. So if you’ll excuse me, my assistant and I will be on our way. Say hello to [REDACTED] for me.”

He gave him a curt little wave and turned on his heel, starting back towards the exit. He motioned for Y/N to follow him without looking back. R4N5OM slowly pulled the door closed, feeling stunned and dejected. And _pissed._

“Come on, _schatz._ We’re done here.”

It was then that R4N5OM felt his building, impotent rage come to a head. Did this high-horse German asshole really think he was too good for him all of a sudden? His mind raced as he thought of a way to stop him from leaving. If he went out that door angry and empty-handed, he would surely complain to the boss and possibly get him demoted. Or fired. This was a huge sale they would be losing out on. He began to panic, eyes darting around wildly.

Of course. His little _whore._

He took one lurching step forward, easily grabbing Y/N around the waist with one arm and pinning her own behind her back with the other. She screamed aloud, thrashing against his front, her sunglasses clattering to the floor. 

“Strade! Wai-“ 

Her frantic words were cut off by a hand slapping over her open mouth. Strade turned around, looking confused. However, he had stopped a little too late, by five inches to be exact. There was a loud buzzing noise like power lines singing on a hot day as the shock bracelet went off. 

Y/N’s entire arm seized up, and she screamed against R4N5OM’s hand in agony, her eyes briefly rolling up into the back of her head. He almost dropped her at his feet in fear and surprise at the residual electricity coursing up his own arms, but he saw the absolutely _incensed_ look in Strade’s eyes as he advanced and re-enforced his grip, this time around her throat. Her eyelids fluttered and she looked dazedly up at her captor, her breathing becoming labored. 

Strade stopped a few feet away, waiting cautiously to see what kind of half-assed excuse this little punk had for laying a hand on _his_ pet. 

“Tell ya what, BC, I’ll make you a deal. You think our inventory is shit, right? Well, how ‘bout I buy this little _princess_ off o’ you, instead? I’ll give you _twice_ the going price for someone her size. It’s a win-win, huh?”

R4N5OM moved his hand from her mouth down her body, tracing her curves. She choked out a protesting cry from the pressure of his arm on her throat. 

“Let me… _go!!_ Don’t…touch me!!”

Strade stood his ground, silent and unmoving. He was thinking about how exactly he wanted to dispatch this _vermin._ It needed to be slow. It needed to hurt. _A lot._ His fingers danced on the butt of his handgun in his back pocket, and he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye that would do just nicely. He smiled.

“I’m afraid she’s not for sale, _freund.”_ His tone was dangerously calm now.

“I’m not gonna take no for an answer, bud. She’d fetch a pretty penny on today’s market. Looks surprisingly healthy too for having to deal with _your_ snuff-lovin’ ass!”

Strade cracked his knuckles behind his back, flexing his fingers. They were getting…twitchy. 

_“…No.”_

R4N5OM bashed Y/N against the wall behind him with a frustrated growl, and started to clumsily try to remove her clothes. He called over his shoulder at Strade as he pushed her shirt up over her chest, roughly groping her breasts and pinching a nipple between two fingers, causing her to whimper with fear and discomfort.

“Hey, let me have some _fun_ with her at least! We can _share,_ can’t we?”

Strade stared daggers into R4N5OM’s back, waiting for the right time to strike. Y/N had been rendered mostly immobile by the tall man’s body pressing her into the wall but she managed to lift her leg enough to kick him hard in the shin. He groaned through his teeth and glared at her, violently shaking her shoulders.

“Ah, fuck! That hurt, you little _bitch!”_

It was the exact moment in which R4N5OM decided it would be a good idea to slap Y/N across the face, making her actually start to _cry,_ that Strade drew his gun. He hadn’t had much practice with it, but his target was close enough for him not to worry. He was proficient at throwing knives, hatchets, and even a little bit of archery. This was no different in his mind.

“Oh, buddy…you shouldn’t’ve done that.”

The sound of the gun firing tore through the air, and R4N5OM toppled over like a Jenga tower, clutching his leg. Blood started to seep through his fingers and he screamed and writhed on the ground at Y/N’s feet. She was frozen in terror, her chest heaving, in shock from her predicament and the sudden, deafening blast of gunfire so close by.

Strade calmly strode over, training the gun on R4N5OM’s head as he moved closer. He bent down and removed his pistol from the holster on his belt, tucking it into his back pocket. He then took Y/N in an awkward one-armed hug, attempting to speak soothingly in her ear to calm her down. She was shaking against him.

“You’re OK, _liebling…_ No more scary man. Why don’t you go sit down in that chair and rest for now? Let me just clean up this mess and then I’ll take you home. I promise.”

She nodded and did as she was told, carefully stepping over R4N5OM to get to her seat. He flailed weakly, trying to grab at her ankle, but Strade quickly seized his forearm, wrenching it behind his head at an unnatural angle.

“GAHH!! Hey, what the _fuck,_ asshole?! I’ll tell the boss about this shit…He…He knows who you are, he’ll f-fuck you up _real_ good, you hear me?!”

He was silenced by the steel toe of Strade’s heavy military-grade boot burying itself viciously in his stomach. 

“Oh, I beg to differ. _Buddy.”_ That familiar term of endearment positively _dripped_ with venom.

Strade crouched by R4N5OM’s head, leering down at his sweaty, pain-contorted face. He dropped his arm, keeping the barrel of his gun aimed between his eyes and pulled his balaclava down off of his face. He wanted to savor every little reaction.

“I don’t think you’ll be telling anyone much of anything, if I’m to be perfectly honest. [REDACTED] didn’t know I was coming, you see. He’ll never know what _really_ happened here. So sad for you, eh?”

Strade chuckled and suddenly reached over, jamming a finger into the bullet wound on the back of R4N5OM’s leg. He stirred it around, earning him a pathetic, high-pitched shriek.

“Aw…what’s the matter? Can’t take it? I thought for sure you would be tougher than _that,_ working in this industry. Ahh…guess not!~”

And so, the begging stage began. 

“Please, man. Don’t…don’t kill me! You don’t wanna do this. I…I…I’ll give you all my money! Take my wallet. It’s in my pocket, it’s yours! Christ, I’ll do anything. I just don’t wanna diiiiieee….”

Strade grinned wider than the skull on his bandanna, his eyes almost squeezed shut. He pretended to ponder R4N5OM’s offer, thoughtfully rubbing the scar on his chin.

“Hmm…that _is_ tempting. You drive a hard bargain there, _Herr_ R4N5OM…what with me already having enough money to buy and sell you _three times over.”_ , he finished sarcastically.

“But in all seriousness, I still have to punish you. Your customer service is _terrible.”_

Strade stretched out R4N5OM’s arms, pinning them down under one boot. 

“I mean…didn’t anyone ever teach you to keep your… _Filthy!…Fucking!…Hands!…_ off of other people’s things? _Huh?!”_

He emphasized his words by savagely stomping down on the sobbing man’s hands with his other boot, grounding them into the floorboards with the heel. Strade laughed out loud, a sound as sharp and sadistic as one of his own hunting knives, as the other man’s fragile bones snapped and crunched like uncooked spaghetti under the weight of his foot. He slowly breathed out a sigh, panting softly at the sound of those delectable screams.

…but he supposed he’d had enough fun…for now. 

After all, it was _way_ past this petulant child’s bedtime.

XI. Getting the Axe

Sitting curled up in an armchair nearby, Y/N watched all of this transpire from over the tops of her knees, which she had drawn up to her chest. When Strade had removed R4N5OM’s balaclava, she couldn’t help but notice how… _young_ he looked. How afraid.

_He should be,_ she reasoned. There’s no way he didn’t know what a madman like Strade was capable of if he had been a fan of his livestreams for as long as he claimed. Watching even just _one_ of those shit-shows would be enough to tell that Strade was the kind of guy who would slowly strangle someone with their own intestines while fucking the hole he pulled them from without blinking an eye. Hell, he _had._

R4N5OM was just a total idiot to test him in the way that he did.

She lowered her feet to the floor and massaged her forearm. It still tingled, but it was probably nothing compared to the sorry state of the other guy’s extremities. 

Humming cheerily to himself, Strade pushed a footstool over to the fireplace and climbed on top to carefully lift the gilded fire-axe from its spot above the mantle. He hefted its weight and twirled it around in his hands, admiring its fine quality. He jumped down from the stool with a thud right next to R4N5OM’s head, scaring the absolute _shit_ out of him. He was rightfully wary of being stomped on by those boots some more. 

Strade hovered overhead, waving the axe around lazily, teasing him. _Giggling._

“You know, I’m wondering how sharp this thing still is, aren’t you? I mean, I would think that the gilding process would dull the blade at least a _little_ bit…but there’s only one way to find out…right _mein freund?”_

The man on the floor groaned and huffed between his teeth, in far too much pain and distress from the many injuries he had already sustained to be playing along with his tormentor’s cruel game. 

_“AM I RIGHT?!”_

Never the biggest fan of silence, Strade landed another kick with his steel-toe to his quaking frame, this time in his side, probably bruising a rib or two. He snarled and drew his foot back, preparing to deliver another but R4N5OM cried out, thrashing his head back and forth.

“Yes! Yeeeesss! Whatever you say, ya _crazy fuck!”_

Strade paused to think, then placed his boot gently over his sternum, only pressing down enough to make him whimper and his eyes widen with fear. He bent down towards his face, gradually shifting his weight and forcing him to struggle for breath. His eyes flickered menacingly in the firelight.

“Can I tell you something, _kumpel?”_

R4N5OM nodded emphatically, his eyes squinting from the strain of being slowly crushed under Strade’s boot.

“Normally I wouldn’t care about this sort of thing, but I’m feeling… _generous._ Those _armen kleinen_ in there just looked sooo _hungry,_ and I know you said you feed them but…they’re still growing, buddy. They need more, ah…. _protein_ in their diet, I think. So! How do you propose we do that, hm?”

Strade bounced the head of the axe against his palm, waiting for a response. Thump. Thump. Thump.

“I, uh…I-I…I dunno man…Ah, God. _Shit._ My _hands…”_

Strade chuckled and twisted his foot slightly in a grinding motion, making him gasp.

“Your hands don’t have much meat on them, but you’re close!”

He raised the axe over his head. R4N5OM figured out what he was doing but didn’t even have time to beg before Strade brought it down on his upper arm just above his elbow with a meaty _thuck._ It only sank in halfway, barely putting a dent in the bone. Blood poured from the gash which quickly began to form a puddle under the screaming man’s head.

Strade stepped on his upper arm to wrest the blade from the muscle then leaned forward, balancing on the handle of the axe as if it were a cane. 

“Ah, just as I thought. Sorry buddy, but this might take some time. So sit tight!”

He swung the axe two more consecutive times, but to his frustration it only seemed to grow even more dull with every impact, impeding progress. Strade sighed, realizing he would have to take matters into his own hands.

Since he was having a lot of trouble chopping through the bone, he stepped backonto R4N5OM’s upper arm, lifting his limp wrist. His ruined hand flopped around uselessly as Strade yanked upward with as much force as he could muster.

“Ahhhh!!! FUCK, what are you _doing_ to meeee?!”, he wailed, not even attempting to hide his tears anymore. The tough-guy facade was completely gone.

Strade gave the arm one more good tug, pressing his other foot down on his bicep for better leverage until finally the stubborn humerus snapped in two with a loud crack that was nearly drowned out by R4N5OM’s rasping screams. The only thing keeping his arm attached to his shoulder at this point was a narrow strip of flesh and sinew.

“Phew! Almost done!~”

The arm separated completely with a tearing motion akin to removing a page from a book, and it even made a disturbingly similar sound.

Now there was blood everywhere, including a few splashes across the tops of Strade’s boots. 

_“Tsk._ Look what you did…”

Strade shoved the toe in his face, prodding at his mouth. R4N5OM flinched his head back, looking up at him uncertainly. Was he serious with this shit?

“Well? What are you waiting for? Clean it _up. …Schnell!”_

He squeezed his eyes shut and stuck out his tongue to reluctantly lick his own blood from the boot of the man that had just brutally chopped his arm off using a wall decoration. He gagged from the coppery tang mixing with the taste of dirty leather, and Strade pulled back, seemingly satisfied for the time being.

“Good boy…Let me patch that up for you now, _ja?”,_ he offered nicely, nudging the bleeding stump with his foot and then moved away to stick the head of the axe in the fireplace.

R4N5OM could do nothing besides stare in disbelief at his own severed arm lying in a pool of blood a few feet away from where it was actually supposed to be. He wished more than anything that he had never accidentally stumbled onto B3G_CRY’s red room while surfing the deep web all those years ago. He began to accept that he was as good as dead. 

_Hey_ , he told himself, _at least this isn’t being filmed._

Just as he began to dazedly fall into a blood loss-induced stupor, he jerked violently from a searing pain at the end of the stump that was his upper arm. He whipped his head over, only to see Strade crouching on one knee and pressing the flat of the axe’s blade against the weeping wound. It hissed and sizzled as a thin tendril of smoke curled up from the burnt flesh. No. Oh, no. He was cauterizing it.

… _Why?_

He began to sob and sniffle pathetically.

_“God…_ leave it alone! Just let me DIE!!”

Some of the gold plating had melted off in the fire and R4N5OM could see that the steel underneath had been engraved with someone’s initials.

_Well, damn. Guess that’s the closest I’ll ever get to knowing the boss’s real name,_ he thought deliriously. As if it somehow mattered.

Strade barked out a short laugh.

“Let you _die?_ Oh _nooo,_ buddy! No can do. Not when you have so much more fresh _meat_ to offer!”

He sounded more than a little unhinged.

Strade stood up, circling his prey. Deliberating on his next move.

“What d’you think? How about a leg next?”

R4N5OM could only nod weakly, closing his eyes in utter defeat.

“Great! It will probably take a lot longer, but that just means we’ll have more time to _bond!”_

Strade crouched down and patted his head, a friendly gesture. 

“You’re being such a good sport!”

The same agonizing process was repeated two more times and the bloody, severed appendages piled up in front of R4N5OM’s gaunt, perspiring face. He may have appeared young before, but now he looked as if he had aged twenty years. He wished for death not only to escape the pain, but even more so, the humiliation. Being tortured and dismembered by someone he looked up to for doing precisely that for a living, someone he had been trying to sell another human being to for that exact purpose, was an unbearable insult.

By the time Strade had gotten to his last leg, the axe had become so blunt and soft from chopping repeatedly through tough muscle and bone, as well as multiple trips to the fireplace, that it was a chore to cut through more than just a few layers of skin. He shrugged.

“Aw..this won’t do at all. Oh well! I guess we should feel lucky that it worked as well as it did, eh?”

R4N5OM just stared up at him, drool leaking from the corner of his gaping mouth. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his eyes swollen and red. Amazingly, he started to laugh. It sounded like a rusty hinge.

“…Guess what, BC?…”, he half-whispered, his voice quivering in time with his twitching lower eyelid.

Strade’s eyes lit up as he leaned down, cupping his ear in a dramatic fashion. He was always fond of this part. When the other person had accepted their fate and felt compelled to divulge their deep, dark secrets. It left him absolutely _tickled._

_“_ I….eeheheh….I fucked _all_ of those kids, y’know…Even…hahahah…even the little one. She’s like _twelve,_ bro. I liked it when she _cried_ ….she..she wanted her fuckin’ _mommy!”_

_Now_ who’s the unhinged one?

Strade laughed with him, like they were two good pals sharing a joke. The sound of their voices rose higher and higher, both of them going on strong even as he flipped the axe around and started smashing the blunt side down onto R4N5OM’s remaining leg over and over and over…bludgeoning it mercilessly until it was little more than a bloody, broken pulp of mashed flesh and splintered bone with a hi-top sneaker on the end. It called to mind something out of a Picasso painting, all jagged angles and pointed shards protruding from the mangled skin.

By the time it was over, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and Strade’s light chuckling.

He wiped his sweaty forehead with the bottom of his shirt before calmly returning the fire-axe back to where he got it from, blood and stringy bits of tissue still clinging to the head and blade. Y/N was sleepily lounging across the chair, laying her head on the armrest. He took her hand, pulling her to her feet. 

“Come with me to the kitchen. I need a drink.”

She regarded him skeptically, noting the splotches of blood on his clothes, and in his hair. There was even a smear on his bandanna, coloring the skull’s teeth red. She looked over his shoulder, then back up at his face. He cocked his head, knowing what she was going to ask.

“Is he….dead?”

“Nah…don’t worry, he’s just resting his eyes. Heh.”

She still looked worried as he led her into the small kitchen.

“You’re just…gonna leave him like that? Won’t he get you in trouble when his boss comes back?”

Strade opened the fridge and took out a can of beer for himself, also tossing her a seltzer. Last time he tried to make her drink alcohol, the little lightweight puked all over him in bed while he was sleeping. _Not_ fun to clean up.

“Aww…be patient, _kätzchen. You’ll see!~”_

She popped the tab on her seltzer while he fished around in a drawer by the sink, grabbing a fistful of forks and steak knives.

“What are those for?”, Y/N asked him curiously. 

Strade merely winked at her. 

“It’s feeding time.”

XII. Dinner Theater

_“Wach auf,_ lazybones! It’s your time to shine…”

Strade tipped his beer can over R4N5OM’s head, pouring some of the frothy, piss-colored liquid onto his upturned face, and knelt down to take his keyring from his belt. He choked and sputtered noisily as beer ran into his heavy-lidded eyes and up his nose, as well as his open mouth.

“…Uuuugghh…Wha…?”

After unlocking the bedroom door and swinging it wide open, Strade waved the bundle of utensils in both hands for the children to see. They remained so paralyzed with fear, it was as if they were statues. His shoulders drooped a little but then he started smacking them together like he was ringing a bell. 

A dinner bell.

They flattened themselves against the wall on the bed, huddling in the corner and trying to protect each other.

“Dinner is served!~”, he exclaimed and tossed the silverware into the room like confetti and they rained down to the floor in an obnoxious cacophony of metallic clanging. Ever the showman, Strade held his arms out in a “Ta-Da!!” gesture. 

“So, choose your weapon.”

He scooped up the pile of discarded limbs like kindling and dropped them unceremoniously in the middle of the room. This time, the kids screamed in horror and disgust, hiding their faces in their hands. This was _really_ not their night. First, some crazy person chucks silverware at them and now _this?_

“…and that’s just the appetizer!” Strade called out to them cheerfully, leaning casually on the door frame. He wiped his bloody hands on his pants.

“Wait ’til you see the main course!”

He laughed heartily at his own biting wit, and strolled back over to where R4N5OM was laying in a puddle of his own coagulating blood. He was taken by surprise when the man on the floor asked him a strange question. He wasn’t even begging for his life.

“…Can I…see your face?… I just…wan-“

Strade crouched down next to him, leaning uncomfortably close. He really had a problem with personal space.

“You wanna know what I look like, _ja?_ That’s understandable. You know, I don’t usually grant last requests and what-not, but this has been fun! You were able to turn a pretty disappointing night into a decent time for me. _And…_ you’re a fan! I don’t get to meet too many of those…or _any,_ for that matter! Haha!”

With that, Strade lowered his bandanna, letting it hang around his neck. The huge, toothsome smile that curled across his face was maybe supposed to be warm and friendly, but when R4N5OM laid eyes on those shiny, glistening canines paired with those wide, psycho-killer eyes he whimpered and looked away, too weak to scream. That twitchy half-moon grin was like something he’d only seen in his nightmares, (or a true crime documentary) and he immediately regretted asking.

Confused, Strade looked from side to side and over his shoulder. Like he wasn’t the scary monster in the room.

“What’s the matter? Do I have something stuck in my teeth…? Ah, whatever. Let’s go, buddy!”

He stood up to grab ahold of R4N5OM’s remaining ankle and dragged him across the room, leaving a slimy trail of blood behind him. His stumps scraped painfully on the wooden floorboards, bumping over the cracks. 

“…Where… _Agghh_ …where are we going…?”

When the children spotted the once-threatening form of their slavedriver, lying broken and debased on the floor before them, they became even more alert, glancing at one another in disbelief. 

“Hey, _schatz!”_ , he called to Y/N as she sat on the armchair sipping her seltzer.

“What’s that phrase…eh, I think it’s French…when someone is about to eat something really tasty? Bone….bone something or other…”

_“Appetit?”,_ she offered, and Strade snapped his fingers.

_“Ja!_ That’s it.”

He smirked and rested the bottom of his boot against R4N5OM’s ribs. Two of the kids started to slowly climb down off of the bed. It was clear that they were extremely weak, too wobbly on their feet to walk very far, so they crawled on their hands and knees. They each cautiously picked a steak knife up off the floor, wielding them not like eating utensils, but as instruments of violence. _Weapons,_ as Strade had implied. They still looked frightened but there was something else deep in their sunken eyes, especially the youngest, that suggested the opposite.

The boy stabbed at one of R4N5OM’s severed arms experimentally, seemingly fascinated by the way the serrated edge of the knife tore through the skin. The arm’s previous owner stared up at Strade, becoming increasingly terrified. He was well aware of what was about to happen…and he knew he deserved it. 

“Y-you…this is ‘cause of…what I told you….right? You want those little sh-..those kids to have…r-revenge…”

Strade quirked his eyebrow and snickered, as if the other man had just said something extremely dumb.

“Pft…Hah! Oh, you think too highly of me, _kumpel!_ Me? Nooo, I’m a simple man…I’m just doing this…”

He then gave R4N5OM’s nearly quadriplegic body a good shove with his foot, sliding him into the middle of the floor, towards the increasingly bold, curious children.

“….because I want to _watch.”_

Strade pushed the armchair, with Y/N still sitting in it, in front of the doorway. He wanted to make sure he had a front row seat. He leaned over the top of the chair, and she looked up at him, his face appearing to be upside down.

“Make some room, _liebling.”,_ he ordered, and went to grab his half-finished beer from the coffee table.

She scooted over to one side, but he just easily lifted her up and plopped down in her place, setting her down on his lap instead.

“Comfy?”

“Mmhm…”, she answered, contentedly laying back against his shoulder, but he propped her back up with a firm hand on her waist.

“Hey, no time for naps! The show is about to start.”

Grabbing her chin, he turned her face forward. He _loved_ forcing her to watch.

The youngest girl took a few hesitant, shaky, steps toward the door, eyeing Strade questioningly. He narrowed his eyes and flashed the gun at his hip, a cold reminder that they were still prisoners. She squeaked and stepped back, lowering her head shyly.

“…thanks…I guess…”, she mumbled quietly.

He just leaned forward and smiled at her, making a little “shoo!” gesture with his hand. She knelt down next to R4N5OM, glancing uncertainly at his sweaty, ashy-pale face. Testing the waters. Was this really OK?…

“Jesus, kid….M-make it quick…”, he muttered, turning his face away from her large, prying eyes. 

Something clicked in her mind, and the other two watched from behind as she clutched her steak knife, staring intently at his abdomen. 

Well, he never asked _her_ that.

She stabbed the knife directly into the center of his stomach with a tiny grunt of satisfaction. He spasmed, his head raising up off the floor an inch or two, but barely making any noise besides a kind of choked-sounding inhalation. Now that the first blow had been dealt, there was no need to hold back any longer. They had gotten a taste of blood and they wanted more.

It was then that the feast began in earnest.

For the next half-hour or so, Strade and his obedient lap cat relaxed in the armchair, watching the crawling, emaciated children slowly devour R4N5OM alive. Admittedly, it wasn’t as interesting of a show as they anticipated it to be. Not only did the leading man end up passing out less than ten minutes into the run-time when one of the girls sawed a meaty chunk of flesh out of his demolished leg, but he also only managed two underwhelming screams. Bo-ring!

Strade yawned loudly, slumping in his seat and Y/N cuddled closer into him, as comfortable and cozy as if they were still at home watching TV on the couch. Finally, he picked her up in his arms and got to his feet, kicking the door shut with a bang.

“Hah…well, that’s that. What d’ya say we head back to the motel? I’m beat.”

Once they were back in the car, Strade seemed to be in a little bit of a pissy mood. Y/N glanced over at him while he unloaded and packed his handgun back into its case. 

“Umm..Hey, Strade..? I’m sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for in there…I know you wanted to pick up a new, uh…subject. For work.”

He was quiet for a moment, leaning forward with his chin on the steering wheel. Then he grinned, slowly turning towards her. His eyes glowed mischievously, like yellow-orange fireflies. 

“Well…there _is_ one other place we could try.”

“Where’s that?”, she asked, buckling herself in. Despite being pretty tired after everything that had happened, she wasn’t quite ready for their adventure to end yet.

“Oh, somewhere special~…Let’s just say we’re a little… _under-dressed.”_

“What do you-“

He sat up straight, suddenly pressing a finger to her lips.

“Hold that thought. I almost forgot something!”

Strade climbed out the driver’s side, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. Y/N watched as he struck all of his remaining matches, one by one, and dropped them into the shrubs surrounding the cabin. It had been an oppressively hot, dry summer thus far and they went up easily, catching on to the wooden exterior of the building with overwhelming speed. He stood there admiring his work for a minute or two with his fists planted on his hips, like some kind of superhero. Once he was satisfied, he hopped back behind the wheel, looking rather pleased with himself.

Y/N stared at him in shocked silence, even though she knew she _really_ shouldn’t be. This was _Strade,_ after all.

“HahaHAH!….What did I tell ya, _liebling?_ When in doubt, just _burn_ it all to the ground…!”

He saw her less-than-thrilled expression and made a face right back.

“Hey…don’t you give me that look. That Random guy…or was it _Ralph?_ …anyway, he was nothing but a problem. _Niemand fasst dich an und kommt in einem Stück davon…”,_ he growled under his breath in German, getting a little heated.

“But…those kids, though…” 

“Eh…? Oh, them. _Tja,_ they weren’t gonna last much longer, anyway. And who knows when [REDACTED] was planning on coming back. Boy, is he gonna be surprised! …which reminds me…I suppose I gotta find a new guy now…”, Strade trailed off, fumbling with his car keys.

“I…guess you’re right…”, Y/N agreed reluctantly and sighed before turning to gaze out her window, resting her cheek on the door. She couldn’t help but feel a little sad, nonetheless. 

She looked on, mesmerized, as the raging house fire erased all evidence of the carnage that had taken place there, drowsing and lost in her own thoughts. Meanwhile, a slow, predatory smile worked its way across Strade’s face, his sharply-focused eyes overshadowed by his blood-tinged hair, tongue curling wetly between his teeth from the corner of his mouth. He unconsciously leaned over as far as his seatbelt would allow, one hand still on his key in the ignition. Maybe, he thought,…they could stay and enjoy this lovely view for a little while longer…?

…but he was watching _her,_ instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translation Key
> 
> kleine - little one
> 
> liebling - darling, favorite
> 
> kumpel - buddy, pal
> 
> die Kinder - the children
> 
> freundchen - buddy, pal, (aggressive, meant as a warning)
> 
> Scheiße - Shit
> 
> schatz - treasure
> 
> freund - friend
> 
> Herr - Mr.
> 
> mein freund - my friend (affectionate)
> 
> armen kleinen - poor little ones
> 
> Schnell! - Quickly!
> 
> kätzchen - kitten
> 
> Wach auf! - Wake up!
> 
> Niemand fasst dich an und kommt in einem Stück davon. - Nobody touches you and gets away with it in one piece.
> 
> Tja - Well


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Do you know what time it is?
> 
> If you guessed gratuitous, violent porn-time, then congrats! You just won yourself a prize :)
> 
> ...It's more gratuitous, violent porn.

XIII. Seen and Not Heard

Their first hint that they should maybe pay attention and/or vacate the premises was the sound of a small explosion inside the burning cabin, likely a kitchen appliance of some kind. Y/N jerked upright from her comfortable spot against the window, hands instinctively covering her ears. This was of course largely ignored by Strade, who was too preoccupied with frantically unbuckling his seatbelt and clambering over the center console on his hands and knees, his pupils dilated and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Unsurprisingly, he had gone from zero to “I want to fucking devour your face” in no time flat. As he was wont to do.

Closing her eyes, Y/N braced herself for impact as he brought his hands up, curling his fingers like claws and slammed them against her shoulders, shoving her against the passenger-side door. She made a small, startled noise and tried to cry out in pain as the back of her head hit the ledge where the window and the rest of the door met. However, her voice was muffled by Strade’s warm tongue snaking its way between her barely-parted lips as he smacked his face against hers with a lecherous groan. He pawed at her chest, his strong hands sliding down and digging under the hem of her sweatshirt, desperate to get at her soft, yielding flesh.

He grabbed and groped, scrambling for purchase on whatever vulnerable part of her body happened to fall under his roaming fingers while at the same time pressing himself closer to her, forcing her further against the door and causing her to slump down under his encroaching weight. She felt a stream of saliva begin to dribble slowly from between their inter-connected mouths, despite the vacuum seal he was creating by quite literally sucking her face. Making out with Strade was always very noisy and wet, more akin to a thirsty dog slurping from his water bowl on a hot day than any kind of actual kiss. Most unnerving was his tendency to keep his eyes open, turning an intimate moment into a weirdly erotic staring contest. Sometimes this made it hard to fully enjoy his attention, but usually whatever came after was enough to make her forget about such a minor detail.

The temperature inside the car was now climbing steadily, but she wasn’t sure if it was residual warmth from the fire or Strade just getting overheated by his own arousal. To be frank, she was surprised that he had even lasted this long. The act of separating somebody’s arm or leg from their torso normally got him harder than college-level calculus - but _three?_ She was almost proud of that remarkable show of restraint on his part.

Just as the windshield began to fog up, turning the glass into a flickering blur of oranges and reds, there came another loud bang as something else combusted, and the car shook when a chunk of debris bounced off of the roof. Strade pulled away from her mouth with a sigh and rolled his eyes in the direction of the flaming cabin, visibly annoyed.

“Ehh…we’ll have to take a rain check on this for now, _liebchen._ I don’t _want_ to, but hey, what’re ya gonna do?”

He awkwardly backed himself into the driver’s seat, a little put out that he couldn’t have what he wanted right away. Y/N straightened herself up, stealing a sideways glance at him as they drove down the hill and out to the main road. He resembled a pouty kid, staring flatly at the road ahead of him and grumbling to himself under his breath. She smiled inwardly and tried to think of something to say to cheer him up.

“So, um…I thought it was really…sweet…that you protected me from that guy back there. Thank you…for that.” She shifted her feet around on the floor, staring down at her shoes as the words left her mouth. 

Strade perked up, eyebrows raising slightly, and he looked over at her for just a second. He seemed a little caught off guard, like he couldn’t comprehend that he had done something nice for someone else, and he ran an uncertain hand through his hair. Despite having washed it just this afternoon, it was already greased up with sweat and dried blood. 

“Oh… _ja._ Well. I didn’t care for the way he was touching you, that’s all. Like you belonged to him, and not _me. …Das ist einfach lächerlich.”_ He sounded slightly uncomfortable, and she stifled a girlish giggle behind her sleeve.

“Hehe…well, it’s still _sweet_ of you anyway.”, she insisted, her voice quiet. 

To her amusement, Strade quickly but firmly changed the subject.

“Speaking of sweet…You hungry at all, _liebling?”_

His stomach had begun rumbling along with the unslaked lust churning deep within his gut. The aroma of sizzling flesh from cauterizing the hack-job he had done on R4N5OM’s limbs had practically made his mouth water. As much as he could have gone for a nice, rare steak, it was probably too late at night to even grab some cheap fast-food from a drive-thru.

They ended up at a small convenience store not far from the sandwich shop they had ordered from earlier that day. Luckily, it was open 24/7, as indicated by the neon sign in the window by the register. A tired-looking clerk in his twenties raised his hand in a lazy greeting as they came in and began to wander the aisles in search of decent snacks.

Strade opened the freezer at the back of the store and pulled out a TV dinner. Salisbury Steak. He stared at it for a minute, then chucked it into the basket hanging on his arm. Meh. It would have to suffice, and they _did_ have a microwave in their motel room. They quickly filled up the basket with some other various, low-tier processed foods. Without Ren around to cook for them, their diet had taken a real nose-dive while on the road.

They were about to head to the front to pay when Y/N spied something she wanted on a lower shelf in the candy aisle and innocently bent down to reach for it, drawing Strade’s crazed eye like a confused moth to a bug-zapper. He narrowed his eyes down at her, subtly biting his lower lip. It was a very…compromising position for her to find herself in, especially when she knew he was right there. Almost as if she was _taunting_ him.

Not entirely thinking straight by this point, Strade dropped the basket to the floor and snuck up behind her, grabbing ahold of her hips and grinding himself against her. She squeaked in surprise and tried to turn to look at him, silently mouthing at him to stop. They were in a public place and she was not permitted to speak. 

“Oh, _schätzchen_ …I don’t think I can wait to get back to the motel to eat…all…these… _goodies.”,_ he hiss-whispered against the back of her neck, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts. 

He had almost actually started yanking them down when the cashier rounded the corner of the aisle holding a broom. Obviously he was suspicious of this twitchy, red-faced weirdo and his tiny, mute girlfriend who had chosen to wear sunglasses in the middle of the night for some unknown reason, and was coming to check on them in the guise of sweeping the floor.

“Umm!!” He loudly cleared his throat, immediately wishing he hadn’t agreed to take the third shift that night. _“…Sir?”_

Strade stopped rutting against Y/N’s backside like a wild animal, and slowly turned his head to look at the dismayed clerk. His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open in a look of mild surprise and disbelief. As close to an “Oh, shit!” face that someone as confident and self-assured as Strade could possibly get. 

“Ah…oh, sorry! I didn’t see you there.”

He jerked Y/N back upright with a rough hand on her upper arm, unintentionally using enough force to make her stumble back against him and hide his prominent erection. She looked absolutely mortified, even behind the dark shades. He steadied her with an arm around her shoulders and flashed his infamous million-watt smile, a band-aid on the gaping knife wound of this painfully awkward encounter. 

“I was just helping my buddy look for…”

“My contact!”, Y/N chimed in, and Strade tensed up next to her, burying his fingertips into her arm with a grip like a vise. Smiling nervously through the pain, she could already picture the ring of bruises that would form there once he let go. She was painfully aware that she had broken one of their special “rules.”

“…I…dropped a contact, but…I found it! We’re all good!” 

She had never worn contacts in her life.

Strade’s unsettling smile hadn’t budged a centimeter, plastered across his flushed face like somebody glued it there. Out of the corner of her eye, he looked like a fucking nutcase. Of course, the cashier was unimpressed, simply staring dully back at them. Debating whether to kick them out or not. Or call the cops.

“But…you’re wearing sunglasses.”

Strade suddenly blinked back to life, picking up their basket of food and taking one aggressive step towards him, not loosening his hold on Y/N’s arm.

“Listen, we’d love to stay and _chat,_ but we got places to be! Excuse us.”

Once they had paid for their snacks and climbed back in the car, he favored her with a disturbingly sweet smile, reaching over to gently stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. He growled impossibly low through his gritted teeth, and she reflexively flinched backwards at the anger in his voice.

“You spoke out of turn, my naughty little _Hase._ Do you know what that means?…”

“I’m sorry, Strade…but I had to say… _something._ You can’t just…do _that_ in the middle of a convenience store. I mean, that’s not exactly laying low.”

“Do whaaat, _liebling?~”_ He was playing coy, intentionally trying to rile her up.

She gave him an exasperated look and he conceded, shrugging his shoulders a bit. 

“Eh, alright. Ya got a point there. _But!_ That doesn’t mean I won’t still _punish_ you~”, he chuckled, licking his upper lip. His jovial grin curved up on one side, betraying his ravenous appetite in the wet glisten of his unnaturally pointed canines. She swallowed hard, unable to look away from him. Away from those fucking _teeth._ She felt her cheeks warming up now, as well as her inner thighs. A shaky gasp escaped her lips, and his golden eyes glinted in the moonlight at the sound, keenly sensing her rising excitement. Her _fear._

“Just wait ’til we get back to the motel, Y/N! You’ll be in for a real… _treat.”_

XIV. _Sein Spiel_

Strade was oddly cool and collected once they had returned to their room, tossing his frozen dinner in the ancient microwave oven after barely glancing at the directions. He pretended not to notice the way Y/N was tip-toeing about, walking on eggshells around him as she retreated to a chair in the corner to munch on her convenience store burrito. He had been mostly quiet on the short ride back to the motel, but there was a creepy smile tugging at one corner of his mouth the entire time.

Y/N looked up from her food at the rattling hum and dim yellow glow from inside the microwave, noting with trepidation that Strade was no longer in sight. She immediately began to feel a bit queasy and so she placed her half-eaten burrito on the side table, slowly rising from her seat to search the room.

“…Strade? Where did you go?”

It was still pretty dark since they had only flipped on the small ceiling light directly over the door to the room. She held her breath for a moment without really meaning to, so sure that he was lurking in the shadows and watching her from somewhere she just couldn’t see. Like a predator. Strade was _really_ into that shit, in love with the thrill of the hunt even when the prey was literally just asking for it. 

She only took a few steps further away from the chair before hearing a soft, barely-audible growl coming from where she had just been. 

… _How was he so fast?_

She reached for the lamp beside the bed, fumbling with the switch and clicking it on, allowing light to flood that side of the room and illuminate the corner at her back. Strade was sitting comfortably in the chair, gazing up at her with a shit-eating grin and twirling his knife in one hand, his other arm draped over the back of the chair. He stabbed the sharp end of the blade into the remains of her burrito, skewering it, then brought it to his mouth to take a big, messy bite with his eyes locked on hers. 

Something about the way he was looking at her, endlessly smiling around the mushy mixture of questionable meat and fake cheese sloshing around between his teeth, told her she was about to have a bad time. After finishing off what was supposed to be Y/N’s meal, he licked the nasty orange grease dripping down the knife and waved it in her direction, beckoning her closer. 

_“Komm zu mir, liebling.”_

She didn’t understand much German beyond the many cute pet names he called her by, but that gesture and the demanding rumble in his voice were clear as crystal. Shuffling timidly forward, she stood close enough for him to touch but he just looked her up and down, slowly dragging his gaze over her trembling form. His posture indicated that he was completely relaxed and even slightly bored, much like a king on his throne waiting to be entertained. He used his knife to absently pick at some food stuck in his teeth, then pointed it at her, lazily. 

“You should take off those clothes, Y/N. It’s pretty warm in here. Don’t ya wanna get a bit more…comfortable?”

His words sounded like more of a threat than a friendly suggestion.

_“…All_ of them?”, she asked shyly. She was beginning to feel a bit weak under the weight of his smoldering gaze. Apparently, he wasn’t kidding about punishing her.

“Some.”, he stated simply. 

“I can take care of the rest, later.”

He leaned forward, tracing the tip of the knife down the length of her bare thigh. Too lightly to cut, but hard enough to make her wonder _when_ he would press down and rake the serrated edge through her exposed flesh. There was hardly ever any “if” once Strade got into one of his moods.

“Now, _strip.”_

He emphasized the last word, stressing the “p” sound as if there was an extra syllable and she nodded obediently, obliging his request. 

After stepping out of her shorts, she briefly looked down at herself, trying to smooth her messy hair. She thought there must have been _some_ reason for choosing today to wear the fancy lingerie set he had gifted her what seemed like forever ago. Strade just smirked, making a low-pitched sound of approval at the dainty, white lace and pale pink bows. It was the perfect uniform for such a picture of purity and innocence to be desecrated by his rough hands and hot, slobbering tongue. He seemed pleased.

“Mmm…look at you, _kätzchen._ You’re just like a little doll.”

Y/N blushed and cast her eyes down at her bare toes, crossing her arms over her chest in embarrassment. She wasn’t sure how much she liked the hands-off approach Strade was using to remove her clothes, instead of greedily ripping them off himself or slicing them away with his knife, peeling her like an exotic fruit. He seemed content with just staring at her in her underwear, taking his time, and that made her uncomfortable. This wasn’t like him to show this much self-control once he was already so worked up. He was planning something.

Almost like he knew what she was thinking, he snickered, arching a condescending eyebrow up at her and his free hand shot forward to grab her forearm, forcing her down into his lap. Holding her firmly in place with an arm constricted tightly around her lower waist, he splayed his fingers across her upper thigh, tickling her a bit. She couldn’t squirm much in his iron grip, but she knew it would be unwise to struggle anyway, despite how much he would probably love it if she did. He pressed the flat side of the knife against her neck and she gasped softly, the cold steel on her pulse point making it seem to pound louder in her ears. 

Sighing lustily, Strade dragged his tongue around the curve of her shoulder, nipping at the skin and sending delighted shudders of terror up her spine. He was clearly enjoying himself.

“Tell me, _mein schatz…”,_ he began, pushing the blade deeper into her neck. It was just the flat side, granted, but he could turn it sideways at any time he wished with just a slight twist of his wrist. Y/N had a sinking feeling that his lazy, calm composure was just a flimsy cover for the rampant blood-lust coming to a boil behind those heavy-lidded amber irises of his. 

“…do dolls… _bleed?”_

There was a mean edge to his tone that didn’t match his contented smile, and as he began to caress her throat with the dull, non-serrated side of the blade, barely scratching her skin, the microwave beeped several times. He didn’t so much as glance in its direction, almost as if he never even heard it. Y/N drew a deep breath, tilting her chin up slightly to avoid getting nicked. 

“Y-you’re food is ready, Strade.”

His laugh was short and derisive, dropping into a seductive purr almost seamlessly. He gave her leg a harsh squeeze.

“Oh, I know. I have it right here.”

Strade pulled the knife away and clamped it between his teeth before lifting her up like a bride and dropping her carelessly on the bed, her head hanging off the edge at the foot of it. She tried to pull herself back up, but his hands quickly surrounded her face, pressing in with his fingertips hard enough to make her teeth ache on one side and resting his knife against her cheekbone on the other. Her eyes widened as she realized she had come head-to-head with Strade’s fat, turgid cock, bobbing and twitching against her mouth. He languidly stroked himself a couple of times, smearing sticky pre-cum on her lips. 

Leering down at her, he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it hang open. She could barely see anything besides a nice view of his heavy balls dangling in her face, but could already tell that he was positively moist with perspiration. His tanned skin was gleaming in the ambient lamplight with tiny droplets clinging to his chest hair and the thicket of pubes trailing most of the way up his stomach. As he rubbed himself all over her face, teasingly slapping against her cheeks and giggling to himself, she started to grow dizzy from hanging upside-down as well as being inundated with his strange, unique musk of charred metal, motor oil, and the masculine tang of his sweat. 

“We’re gonna play a little game, OK?…but this time I’m not letting you break any _rules.”_

_“Mmm…?”,_ she responded, unable to say much more with the head of his cockslowly making its way into her warm mouth. She gladly accepted him, swirling her tongue around the tip, and humming tunelessly. Momentarily distracted, he shivered with pleasure, panting softly. 

_“Ahh…ahah…_ Hey, slow down~ You don’t even know what this game entails yet. So! For every minute you don’t finish me off, or even if you do something I don’t particularly _like…_ I will cut you somewhere different. It could be shallow…it could be quite deep. You might bleed a little…or a _lot.”_

He illustrated this by turning the knife and tracing her cheekbone with a feather-light touch, and then moving it to her upper arm, jabbing it once quickly with the sharp point. It was a superficial wound, but the sudden, vibrant pain got his point across rather well.

“Sounds fun, right? I’m excited to find out how long you’ll last before you pass out from blood either rushing to your head or exiting the _holes_ in your body. Ahahaha….”

Without further ado, he slammed his cock all the way down her throat mid-laugh, his sack smacking loudly against her forehead, before drawing back maddeningly slow in order to relish every inch that slid past her soft lips. 

_That was just a warm-up_ , she guessed, trying desperately not to collapse into a coughing fit. Then he said something that made her ears perk up.

“The only catch is that you’re not allowed to use your hands.”

Huh _._ He didn’t say anything about only being able to use her _mouth._

Strade looked her over for a moment, thoughtfully considering where would be the best place to place his knife first. He broke into a sadistic grin as he rested the point of the blade on the back of what he knew to be her drawing hand, applying only the slightest pressure. He gently cupped the back of her head, twirling his fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck in a deceptively affectionate gesture, and his breathy voice floated down to her with a mocking, sing-songy lilt.

“Ready when you aaaare, _mein haustier!~”_

XV. Two Can Play

Y/N had found herself in a bit of a conundrum, being forced to do all the dirty work that she had grown so accustomed to Strade doing himself. Normally he would just take what he wanted from her, chasing his own pleasure without giving her any say in the matter. Now he was giving her an inordinate amount of control and she suddenly didn’t know what to do with it. The sharp end of his knife began to sink into her hand as the seconds ticked by so she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing, thinking about how she should go about this.

_“Ahem!…_ You awake down there, buddy?” Strade clapped his free hand against her cheek a few times, impatient.

“Mm-hmm!”, she squeaked out, and tried to lift her head up to take more of him into her mouth. It made her neck ache from the strain.

It was too difficult to perform proper fellatio unassisted in this position, especially without her own helping hands. Plus, she could almost swear that Strade kept inching back a tiny bit every time she tried to move her mouth further down onto him. It figured. He _would_ absolutely sacrifice his nut for the chance to cut her up some more.

“You, ah…look like you’re having a little trouble there.”, he commented, letting up some of the pressure on her hand. He ran his fingers lightly under her chin and down her throat, tickling her to try and get her attention. She slipped him out of her mouth, turning her face just enough to answer him.

“Yeah, it’s um…a little hard to do it like th- _AHH!!”_

She finished her sentence with a sharp cry of pain as he slashed the back of her hand with the serrated edge of the knife. 

“Aww…don’t give up yet~ I know you can do better than that _,_ _mein maus.”_

He thought for a moment, drawing lines with the blood welling up from the fresh cut using the very tip of the blade.

“Hm…tell ya what. I’ll let you get into a more comfortable position…if you _scream_ for me.”

Y/N didn’t know if it was the dizziness or her own sex-addled brain making her so uninhibited, but what came out of her mouth next stopped Strade dead in his tracks.

“Then give me a reason to.”

There was a tense moment of silence, and then her head was rocked viciously to one side as he slapped her across the face with a surprising amount of force. She felt his reddening handprint begin to take shape on her burning cheek.

“Watch your mouth, Y/N…and be careful what you ask for. You _know_ I won’t hesitate to give it to you.”

With that, he snatched up her hand and bit down hard, digging his incisors directly into the fresh wound and gnawing it open. Her blood gushed out all over his teeth, dripping over his chin and down her arm. He was way past the point of caring about soiling the sheets because he could always just leave a generous tip for the cleaning lady.

As if on cue, Y/N allowed the scream that Strade wanted to hear rip its way up her already sore throat, sounding ragged and rasping. She didn’t have to fake the fear and desperation in her voice, but she also kind of enjoyed feeling his teeth rending her sensitive flesh apart and his tongue worming its way inside the wound. 

Living with a serial killer these past few months had taught her many things, and the delicate art of mixing cocktails of pleasure and pain had to be one of the most important. To his delight, he was well aware that it was now almost impossible for her to get off without the caress of his knife and the feel of her own blood pooling on her skin. Sure, it was fucked up, but them’s the breaks.

“Ohh… _Das hört sich wunderbar an,_ _meine liebe._ Good girl. Here, let me help you up!”

He pulled her upright by the same hand he had just been chewing on, sending more bright, glassy shards of pain radiating out to her fingertips. She swiveled around to face him, hugging her bleeding hand to her chest and he leaned down, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear with a deceptively gentle touch.

_“…Well?”_

“Oh, uh…try s-sitting on…the bed?”, she stammered out, still hissing in pain.

“Ah! I see what you’re doing…” Strade smiled cheerfully and sat down next to herbefore shoving her onto the floor. _Dammit_ , she thought as she pulled herself back up to a kneeling position, leaving a gooey red smear on the rug. This was the second time today that he had pushed her off this bed. What she wouldn’t do for love.

Lifting her chin up with the flat of his knife to meet his eyes, he smirked down at her and pet the top of her head like a cat.

“You look so nice like that, _liebling._ On your knees for me, like a good pet…Just remember now! No hands. Put them behind your back…or I’ll do it _for_ you.”

He punctuated his sentence with a threat and placed his knife against her clavicle.

“You may continue.”

“Yes, Strade. Thank you.” She nodded up at him politely and interlaced her fingers behind her, resting her hands on her tailbone. It was time to turn her attention back to…well, the task at hand.

She gave the leaking tip of his cock a few experimental licks, tasting more of his salty pre-cum and letting it bounce on her tongue. As she leaned forward to close her lips over the head, she winced as the knife dug into her collarbone. It didn’t break the skin but that was coming later, she was sure. She opened wider to fit more of his intimidating girth inside her mouth, curling her tongue around him as she slid back and forth several times.

“Mmm.. _Das ist schön..”_ , Strade mumbled, licking his lips down at her. 

His shaggy hair hung over one eye and his face and neck were warm and flushed, like he had a fever. Y/N pulled her head back and slowly dragged her tongue up the length of his shaft, licking the underside and making sure to pay careful attention to every vein and ridge she came across, as well as maintaining eye contact whenever possible. Just the way he liked. 

“You’re trying so hard, _liebling._ That’s cute…” , he praised her, a hint of adoration in his lust-tainted voice.

“…But not hard enough.”

Strade raked the knife along her collarbone in one swift motion and a dark line of blood began to well up and drip down into her cleavage, rewarding him with another scream that could also be confused for an ecstatic moan if you listened well enough. He did, naturally.

Y/N tried not to panic, though she knew she would need to work quicker than this or she would be ending up with a few too many nasty scars. Souvenirs to remember this trip by to go with the unsavory memories of watching a group of emaciated teens eat some poor jack-off alive.

She tried to create more spit for lubrication, but found that anxiety and too much screaming were running her mouth dry…unlike other parts of her. The way Strade was eyeing her with that easy smile of his and those bewitching, slightly unhinged eyes was making her want him so badly that the ache between her legs threatened to overtake the sharp pain of him cutting into her flesh. 

At least, metaphorically. To be truthful, she was hoping he would ultimately tire of this stupid game and just fuck her into the headboard of this musty-smelling motel bed until she couldn’t see straight.

Smacking her lips a few times to try and get her salivary glands working, she noticed Strade giving her a curious look.

“Hm? Getting a bit…dry? Maybe this will help!”, he chuckled and gleefully sliced into her other collarbone, this time vertically, trailing down her chest at a slight angle. 

_“Sss_ …Fuck…!”, she swore through her teeth, not expecting it, and then almost started to cry as he fingered the wound, spreading it apart and lathering his hand with the blood that oozed out. He stroked himself with it, purring contentedly at the warm, slimy slickness and then wiped the excess across her mouth, painting her like it was poorly-applied lipstick.

“There. Is that better?”, he asked, grinning ear-to-ear as if he was the biggest help ever. She looked up at him gratefully, trying not to make a face at the taste of her own fluids.

“Yes, Strade. Thank you.”, she repeated herself. She knew he loved it when she was submissive and well-mannered. Probably to compliment his own _winning_ personality.

“Oh! Just a second.”

He set down his knife and reached behind her to unhook her bra, whipping it over his shoulder.

“Don’t want to get that _dirty…”_

He cupped her breasts in his hands, kneading them roughly and smearing blood all over her chest, then pulled her closer to slide his blood-streaked cock in between. Squeezing them tightly together, he beamed down at her, tilting his head and admiring the view while he leisurely fucked her cleavage. 

“See, now _that’s_ perfect.” Strade had a sort of detached expression on his face, seemingly talking to himself and drooling slightly. He chewed at his lower lip for a moment, and then she saw his eyes light up, his pupils expanding like a predator getting ready to pounce.

“Stra-?“

Before she could get a single word out, he grabbed the back of her head, balling up chunks of her hair in both fists and yanking hard on her scalp. He forced her mouth all the way down onto his cock, bouncing her head against his pelvis with little regard for her need to breathe, and spouting incoherent, excited gibberish. She should have known this would happen sooner or later. Sometimes, the man just couldn’t help himself.

After what seemed like hours, he allowed her to resurface for air and she gasped and choked on the blood and saliva trickling down her throat. Strade was panting loudly with his eyes closed and his head thrown back, one hand tangled in his sweaty hair and the other on the hilt of his knife. Since he seemed to be preoccupied for the moment, Y/N decided to take the chance she had been waiting for. She had literally bent over backwards (or rather, upside-down) to please him and now it was high time she got hers. 

She drew in a deep breath to psyche herself up and rose to her feet, taking a few wobbly steps back, out of his reach. Strade blinked his eyes open, leaning forward to glower at her with an expression of mixed puzzlement and anger.

_“Hey._ Did I say you could _stop? Get back down there.”,_ he hissed between his teeth in warning and pointed emphatically at the floor between his legs.

Y/N steadied herself, planting her feet firmly on the carpet and then gave him a demure little smile as she eased her lace panties over her hips and down her legs, letting them drop to the floor. His eyes widened a bit as they followed them. She saw him looking, and feeling brave, blew him a little kiss. 

Oh, if he wasn’t fucking _seething_ now.

_“…Liebling…_ You _will_ listen to me or you’ll be deep-throating this _knife_ next time.”, he sneered, brandishing it at her. However, wasn’t his voice wavering just the tiniest bit? And didn’t his breath catch in his throat when he saw her smile?

“Aw, but _Straaade_ …don’t you remember the rules of your own game?”, she asked him slyly, sauntering towards him with a subtle swing in her hips. She ran her hands over his broad, masculine chest and down his powerful biceps, gently squeezing his tense, firm muscles. He continued to stubbornly growl and glare at her, but his tone seemed more playful now than furious.

“What d’you mean? Of course I do!”

He brought his knife up to her chest, pressing the flat side between her breasts, but it didn’t phase her. This was old-hat, by now. He really needed to learn some new tricks.

“Nuh-uhh~ All you said was that I couldn’t use my _hands_ to make you cum. Isn’t that right?…”, she taunted him, lightly tracing a finger along his scruffy jaw.

Strade seemed to…”go off-line” for a second, his mouth hanging slightly agape and his eyebrows raised high, stunned by her sheer audacity. Then his face split into a knowing grin, baring his teeth to her in an ominous invitation. 

“So… _that’s_ how you wanna play? Well, go right ahead, _schatz.”_

His narrowed eyes blazed with such barely-contained voracity that she swore she could feel her skin warm up wherever he laid his hungry gaze. Gesturing down at his empty lap with a flourish, he smiled up at her indulgently.

“…I _dare_ you.”

Y/N wasted no time lifting one foot up on to his thigh for leverage and throwing her whole weight into him to knock him onto the bed, pinning him down on his back the way he had done to her so many times. He just laughed obnoxiously and tucked one hand behind his head like a pillow, the other still clutching his knife. Totally _relaxed._ She looked down at him hesitantly for a moment, painfully aware of the cold metal on her back between her shoulder-blades. However, she decided to go against her better judgement and kissed him as ferociously as she could muster, sinking her small teeth into his lip and pushing her fingers into his filthy hair.

Without any warning, he slashed the knife diagonally across her back and she screamed in his face. His mouth fell open in a sloppy grin, moaning with her in tandem. 

“Hmm~…this is a new side of you I haven’t seen, Y/N. It’s very… _intriguing.”_

He pulled her face closer to him and lifted his head up slightly to whisper in her ear.

“Show me _more.”_

Suddenly tired of fucking around instead of fucking _him,_ she wrested herself from his grip and straightened her back, straddling him. He held both of her hands firmly with one of his own and grinned mockingly up at her while he watched her try to wriggle herself down on top of him using only her hips. She cried out his name as she filled herself up with that which she had been so desperately craving, already dripping all over him.

“Ahh… _haahh_ …You fit me so well, _liebling._ It’s almost like you were made just for me to _fuck_ you.”

She ground down against him, feeling the head of his cock prodding at her cervix as she tried to take him as deep as humanly possible. No matter how many times they had sex in a variety of positions, it was riding him that always seemed to hit different. Hurt like a bitch at first, but _if_ he was nice enough to give her a moment to adjust before jackhammering her pussy into next week…it _might_ not feel like she was being slowly torn in half the whole time. 

Lucky for her, Strade was feeling particularly generous tonight.

Guttural moans and deep growls of pleasure rumbled up from his chest, spurring her on to move faster. _Harder._

“Oh, _ja…reite mich gut, mein nuttig kleines Kätzchen…”_

Jesus, _fuck._ That _accent._ It broke something inside of her, making her even wetter than she already was. If that was even possible, judging by the obscene squelching and slapping noises filling the room as she bounced around wildly on his dick. On top of that, the bedsprings squeaked rhythmically beneath them, in time with their heavy, intermingled breaths.

He dropped her hands and reached between her legs, circling her swollen clit with the rough pad of his thumb at a frustratingly slow pace, teasing her without any remorse. She tried to grind against his hand but he just grinned wickedly before drawing his knife around her hip, cutting a curved, deep red line into her flesh. Y/N screamed aloud, trailing off in to a breathless moan as he sped up his ministrations, pressing hard and rubbing mercilessly at her apex, snarling all the while under his ragged breath.

She touched the cut he had just made, collecting some of the blood on her hand before leaning down to offer it to him. He eagerly opened his mouth, letting her slide her fingers inside and he sucked on them with fervor, gliding his tongue between them suggestively before biting down and growling lowly at her like a dog with a bone. She cried out and screwed her eyes shut from the pain and her rapidly approaching climax.

“Ahh…Oh God - _Strade_ …I think I…I….”, she gasped out the words, feeling her body lose control. It was getting increasingly difficult to hold herself up, but she clenched down around him anyway, trying to milk his throbbing cock to its finish. She’d be damned if she didn’t at least _try_ to beat him at his own game.

_“Ohhh_ no…I don’t think so. Not before _me,_ you’re not.”, Strade purred, his tone so dangerously soft that she nearly froze, instantly terrified. 

He buried his nails into the tops of her thighs, raking them down her legs and drawing more thin rivulets of blood all the way to her knees. 

_“Nnnggh_ …ah, shit…but…but I can’t help it…your cock just feels _so…fucking…good…!!”_

“Then maybe I should put it back in your mouth, _ja?_ Wouldn’t want to spoil you too much, _du kleine Göre.”_

It was amazing how much power he had over her even when he was lying underneath her. Too tired and lust-drunk to fight him off, Y/N allowed Strade to prop himself up on his elbows and lunge forward, grasping her shoulders and digging his thumbs harshly into the still-leaking wounds on each clavicle. A breathy, triumphant laugh escaped his lips as he rolled her over, sending them both tumbling off the edge of the bed. She landed hard on her back, knocking the wind out of her lungs.

Looming overhead menacingly, Strade had managed the skill to remain deep inside of her and she rolled her eyes up at him dazedly as his imposing form bathed her in its cold shadow. Bending down close to her face, he fixed her eyes with his psychotically intense stare. He thrusted into her savagely and erratically, pushing his nails deeper into her flesh and savoring her agonized cries as he took what was rightfully his. In her pre-orgasmic delirium, she thought for an instant that she was getting railed by one of her own sleep-paralysis demons.

Moments later, he pulled out and crawled up to her face, wrapping his hand around his shaft to reposition himself against her lips. With no further preamble, he proceeded to fuck her mouth in the same brutal manner, grasping the back of her neck hard enough to bruise and pinning her arms down under his knees. Her hands began to tingle and quiver from the lack of circulation as she choked and sobbed around his meaty girth. Meanwhile, Strade showered her with more sweet, indecipherable words of presumable encouragement and praise based on his tone.

“Hahhh…oh, _schätzchen…Du bist nur lebendig, weil ich dich mag…”_

Y/N’s head felt so light, her mind beginning to float and drift. She was just about to let her eyelids droop closed when Strade emitted a terrible, inhuman sound like a rabid animal in heat that ended in a crazed, wheezy sort of laugh. He arched his back into her face as he slammed his cock down her throat to the hilt one final time, flooding it with so much of his hot, creamy seed that it oozed from the corners of her mouth. He paused just like that for a moment, groaning shakily and trying to catch his breath, before easing himself out and allowing her to do the same. 

She immediately started gagging and violently retching, overcome by a sudden wave of nausea. After dry-heaving once or twice, she barely managed to turn her face to the side in time before bringing up a disgusting froth of bile, half-digested burrito, and his cum all over the faded, dirty beige rug.

Strade just giggled as if it was the most endearing thing in the world, languidly stroking himself and squeezing out the last few, lingering drops onto her gore-caked breasts as he went soft.

_Better make that an EXTRA nice tip,_ he thought to himself, smirking amusedly at the mess they had made.

He sighed adoringly down at her, and playfully ruffled her hair.

“Congrats, buddy! You _won!”_

XVI. Aftercare

Y/N lay sprawled out on the bed sideways with her legs dangling limply off the edge, stirring in a half-conscious stupor as Strade took care of her many injuries. He slowly cleaned off the excess blood with his tongue, tenderly kissing each of her wounds before disinfecting them and bandaging up the deeper ones. She had taken a lot of abuse at his hands and he sometimes had to remind himself of how fragile she was. If he broke her she would be very difficult to replace, and besides…

…she _needed_ him, and Strade kind of enjoyed that.

Then he remembered his TV dinner, left forgotten in the microwave and went to retrieve it. He ate standing up, using only his knife still encrusted with Y/N’s dried blood and slurping the viscous gravy right out of the plastic tray. The food was cold, but still decent for what it was, he supposed. He wasn’t too picky. When he was done, he scooped out the small, crumbly brownie and held it to her mouth. She shook her head, wanting only to sleep.

“Come on now, _liebling…_ You didn’t eat much, y’know. I don’t want you to starve!”

He patiently fed her like a pet rabbit, content to simply watch as she nibbled off reluctant little bites. 

Later on, he held her tightly against him after he turned out the light, enveloping her exhausted body with his warmth. He hadn’t forgotten that she could get cold so easily. After all, he _was_ a good listener. 

He glanced over at the alarm clock on the bedside table. The sun would be coming up soon, but he didn’t really mind. The two of them could stay in bed all day if they wanted to, since their next destination was a place best suited for…the _nocturnal,_ for lack of a better word.

Strade yawned loudly and burrowed his face deep into the pillow to ward off the thin sliver of dawn-light that was attempting to sneak through the flimsy curtains. His last words to her before he drifted off were muffled, but Y/N heard him just the same and the sleepy sound of his voice lulled her into a sweet dream.

_“…Guten morgen…meine geliebte…”_

_< 3_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me. Really. If I showed this filth to anyone I know IRL, they would try to have me committed. 
> 
> <3
> 
> German Translation Key
> 
> liebchen - term of endearment (darling, sweetheart)
> 
> Das ist einfach lächerlich - That's just ridiculous.
> 
> liebling - darling, favorite
> 
> schätzchen - honey, darling, baby (Strade is a little hot 'n bothered)
> 
> Hase - bunny
> 
> Sein Spiel - His Game
> 
> Komm zu mir, liebling. - Come to me, darling.
> 
> kätzchen - kitten
> 
> mein schatz - my treasure
> 
> mein haustier - my pet
> 
> mein maus - my mouse
> 
> Das hört sich wunderbar an, mein liebe. - That sounds wonderful, my dear.
> 
> Das ist schön... - That's nice...
> 
> Oh, ja...reite mich gut, mein nuttig kleines Kätzchen... - Oh, yes...ride me good, my slutty little kitty... (sorry, I just really like dirty talk!)
> 
> du kleine Göre - you little brat
> 
> Du bist nur lebendig, will ich dich mag. - You're only alive because I like you.
> 
> Guten morgen. - Good morning.
> 
> meine geliebte - my sweetheart, my beloved


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Strade and Y/N have reached the last leg of their journey, will they finally find what they've been looking for?
> 
> The answer may surprise you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be introducing a character using the name "X/N." Fill in the blank for that as you will.

XVII. Morning Thoughts

It was approaching noon when Y/N began to stir, roused by the stripes of late morning sun shining through the curtains. She became vaguely aware of a dull, throbbing ache in her left hand and on both collarbones, as well as the bandages taped to each wound. There was blood on the comforter and a faint, acidic stench coming from the rug next to the bed. Oh. Right. She had gotten sick on the floor after Strade used her mouth as a… _yeah…_

She yawned and wriggled under his arm, trying to find a more comfortable position that didn’t irritate her fairly fresh cuts, but it was no use resisting Strade’s death-grip. He probably wouldn’t let her go until he was ready to get out of bed. She turned her head towards him only to find that his face was mostly smothered by his pillow, which at least muffled his ungodly, beast-like snores. His matted, brown tentacles of hair were spread across the pillow like a greasy mop and he definitely needed a shower, but she couldn’t help the blissful smile that crept into her lips as she nuzzled against his warm chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. 

How could she be so happy?, she asked herself. Or rather, the _old_ Y/N asked her current self. That shy, unremarkable woman stuck in a dead-end, thankless job with broken, forgotten dreams, and so few people she could trust or talk to. The scaredy-cat who couldn’t stomach slasher flicks and had to leave the room when her roommate binge-watched medical dramas on the weekends. The Y/N who considered herself pretty vanilla with the few people she had slept with…except for that one time she cut her finger chopping tomatoes for a salad at an ex-boyfriend’s house. She had felt a rush of adrenaline and the small kitchen suddenly felt too warm…but otherwise…

Yeah. Totally normal, sensible Y/N.

_Look at you,_ she scolded the trashy harlot languishing in the arms of a dangerous psychopath. In this cheap, no-star motel in the middle of East Bum-fuck Nowhere.

_How can you stand this? How can you stand_ him? _He’s disgusting and cruel. He burned several children alive and then dragged you back to this dump to fuck you because_ it turned him on. _So…_ why?

The woman in the bed, covered in scars, bruises, and bite-marks had no answer. Perhaps she had known on some sub-conscious level, in that pivotal moment at the cafe’ when she first laid eyes on Strade, that he would become the love of her life. Maybe that’s why she didn’t fight him when he kissed her neck and felt her up in public. Everything he did and said was all kinds of wrong, one massive red flag after another accompanied by blaring sirens in her head, screaming “STRANGER DANGER!”…but holy hell, she had _wanted_ him.

Something about the way he had looked at her, with those weirdly intense, slightly asymmetrical eyes the color of wildflower honey. The way he placed his hand on her arm as she told him about her boring life. A comforting, light touch…but still somehow… _possessive._ How attentively he listened to her as she rambled awkwardly, stumbling over her words and repeating herself. “Umm"-ing and “Like"-ing her way through their conversation because she was so damn nervous about this startlingly attractive guy with a sexy accent coming to talk to _her_ of all people, so out of the blue. 

He never judged her, never made fun of her. He made her feel important. Special. Like she was the only other person in the world. It was as if Strade already knew her better than she knew herself. She should have seen that in his smile. 

And so, she went with him. To pain. To torture and fear. To his basement…and after all that? He had spared her. Suddenly she needed to know _why,_ more than anything. She had been too disoriented and exhausted to question him when he put that shock collar around her bruised neck and carefully carried her upstairs to get her settled in her new home. Back then, maybe she hadn’t even cared. Too grateful and relieved to still be alive after so many others were not so lucky, if the numerous rusty stains littering the concrete floor and much of Strade’s equipment were any indication.

Soon, her thoughts were interrupted by the hand at her waist sliding up her bare back, fingers prodding at the shallow, stinging wound between her shoulder-blades. She suppressed a squeak of pain, not sure if he was really awake yet or not. Sure enough, Strade lifted his head to peek over at her with one sleepy eye. 

“Mmmnn… _liebling_ …you up?”

“Nope, still sleeping.”, she deadpanned, earning her a soft giggle from the other side of the pillow.

He pulled her closer to him and nibbled teasingly at her ear.

“You’re funny.”

His breath was hot and smelled like rancid meat and overly salted gravy, but she didn’t mind. Hers probably wasn’t much better anyway, after the shit they got up to last night.

Strade went still again and she nudged his shoulder with her head, not wanting him to fall back asleep. He groaned, his eyes reluctantly fluttering open. 

“…Uhh?”

“What’s the plan for today?”, she asked him cautiously.

“Hm?…Oh, _ja._ That. Well, you’re certainly a curious _kätzchen_ this morning, aren’t you?”

Y/N just looked up at him expectantly, her eyes wide and innocent, and he stroked under her chin with one finger. A goofy, groggy smile spread across his face.

“Alright…I know that look. I’ll tell you. So, back home, there’s a place downtown where people, uh…just go to dance to really loud music and get shit-faced. That kind of thing.”

“A club?”, she offered helpfully.

_“Ja!_ A nightclub. Anyway, I go there once in a while when there’s nothing interesting going on at the bar. It’s a different type of crowd, sure, but I rarely end up going home alone at the end of the night…if ya catch my drift.” 

“You don’t seem like the right type for that kind of place.”, she commented, quirking her eyebrow skeptically at his scruffy face and unwashed, scraggly hair. Seriously, would they even let him in when he looks like he shops exclusively at Dads R’ Us? 

“Eh, I’m not…but I got a buddy whose brother works there so I get in the back for free as long as I buy a round of shots for him and his, ah… _”freunde.”_

Strade held up two fingers to emphasize his last word with air quotes. Oh…so this guy was probably a man-whore of some kind. Maybe the owner or…a DJ? Regardless, she was intrigued.

“So…do you _daaance?”_ , she asked, wiggling up against him flirtatiously.

He shot her a condescending look. 

“Do I _look_ like I’d be a good dancer to you, _liebling?_ Hah! I would crush anyone near me under my boots! I stick to the bar, mostly. All the lonely ones go there because they have nobody to dance with, y’know.”

He chuckled good-naturedly and propped himself up against the pillows in a half-sitting position, pulling her along with his arm still tight around her middle.

“…So it’s up to me to show them a good time! Ahahaha…It’s pretty easy too. It’s dark and noisy in there so nobody really notices if some drunk _Mauerblümchen_ goes missing. I just take them out the way I came in. They don’t usually fight much if I buy them enough drinks. Heh.”

“Then why don’t you go there all the time instead of the bar? Sounds like less work to me.”

“Ah, you see…I like the challenge! Getting to know somebody one on one in a place where I can actually hear myself think is so much more… _rewarding_ than just pumping them full of booze and promising a quick fuck in the alleyway. It takes time and patience. Just because _you_ were practically throwing yourself at me doesn’t mean they’re all like that, _mein schatz.”_

_“_ Oh…OK.” , she said meekly, feeling her cheeks turn pink. Had she really been that _easy?_ Looking back, any sane person would have told Strade to back the fuck off and then he would have smiled and told them to have a nice night, only to corner them in the dark on their way to their car later on. He had told her these stories when he would come home late from the bar, feeling giddy and slightly buzzed on craft beer and the thrill of the hunt. His eyes would light up as he lovingly described how he threw them against the wall behind the building when they tried to get away from him, watching them collapse to their knees at his feet after he bashed their head into the bricks and laughing as he stomped on their phone. No hope of escape.

She supposed she had gotten off easy, by _being_ easy.

Strade flipped on the TV, channel-surfing mindlessly and playing with the stitches on the side of her thigh with his other hand. She thought for a moment as he stopped on some day-time talk show.

“Are you gonna dress up tonight? I mean, I’d like to see that.”

He squeezed her leg a little harder than felt comfortable, grinning when he felt her tense up next to him.

_“Pfft!_ No…but you are, _mein haustier._ You have all day to get prettied up, or whatever girls do.”

He waved his hand in the air, wiggling his fingers like he was performing a magic trick and she giggled. Internally, she was wondering what the hell she was going to do about _that._ All she had was a small makeup bag, like, two outfits, and some hand-me-down combat boots. Hardly clubbing material but…she’d figure something out.

They watched the talk show for a while in amicable silence. The title on the bottom of the screen read: “Is my new husband a SECRET RAPIST?” 

Oh, boy. Topical.

Strade chuckled under his breath every time the titular husband would appear on screen, saying “I didn’t do nothin’.” in a hilariously monotone voice and looking dead inside while his hysterical wife wailed and sobbed about him being a liar.

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that, buddy…”, he muttered, shaking his head. 

Meanwhile, Y/N’s inner monologue turned to her earlier self-reflection and she remembered the nagging question she had wanted to ask him. 

“Ugh…those lie detector tests are so obviously rigged…”

“Hey, Strade?”

“Hm? What is it, _liebling?”_

He sounded a touch impatient, but she pressed on nonetheless.

“I was just thinking about…some stuff…and I was wondering why you decided to, um…keep me?”

Strade sighed, a long, leisurely exhale and tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. He seemed perfectly calm and she was suddenly relieved. 

“I didn’t. _You_ did…remember?”

“I…I think so…? My memory is a little fuzzy.”

“Well, you were in pretty rough shape after a couple of days with me, and I was preparing to, ah…take _care_ of you, so to speak.”

He smirked down at her as her eyes widened anxiously, petting her hair. It was a satisfyingly cute reaction to knowing he had been so close to actually murdering her.

“…but you had told me you wanted to stay with me after I promised you a reward for being a good girl.”

He ran his tongue over his top row of teeth, lowering his eyelids slightly.

“And you were… _very_ good.”

He continued on, talking animatedly with the one hand not holding her close to him.

“Anyway, how could I say no? As much as I would have liked to slowly slit your throat and fuck you on the floor while you bled out, I never brought someone home that still wanted me _after_ I started hurting them. It was too interesting to pass up. Besides, you were so innocent and cute. Like an abandoned kitty in a cardboard box.”

Strade got a wistful look in his eye, staring through the TV instead of at it. Reminiscing.

“So…I adopted you, like I did with Ren. …and I’m glad I did! _Du bist doch ein so niedliches Kätzchen…”,_ he cooed, carding his fingers through her hair and pulling at the tangles. 

“Now, here’s my question for you, while we’re on the subject. Why _did_ you want to stay with me? I had you nailed to a support beam and drilled a hole through your arm. Don’t tell me you enjoyed that!”, he laughed, playfully shaking her shoulder.

Y/N gulped, her throat dry. She never thought Strade would turn the question around on her.

“No…not really, but uh…I guess I…well, there was just something about you. Something that felt…right. That first night I spent alone…I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was in so much pain and I was so afraid, and I… _hated_ you for that…but I still wanted you to come back and, like…touch me some more. Ahh..I don’t know what I’m saying…”, she made a frustrated noise and shrugged, giving up.

Strade raised one eyebrow and cocked his head.

“You mean _hurt_ you some more?”

She averted her eyes, mumbling.

“Yeah. I do.”

He snickered, grinning smugly at her.

“See, that’s what I both like and…well not dislike, exactly but…y’know…about you, Y/N. You’re a willing participant in whatever game I wanna play with you. I like the screams and the struggles and the panic in someone’s eyes when they see me coming for them…but you? I get something else entirely. _Es ist warm…und einladend.”_

She closed her eyes briefly, savoring this peaceful, strangely domestic moment with him. He could be surprisingly eloquent and thoughtful when he was getting more blood flow to his brain than to what was in his pants. 

“Love.”, she said quietly without looking up at him, her voice only a few octaves above a whisper. She smiled to herself as she felt him shift on the pillows, talking a little too fast. 

“Ah, sure! If _that’s_ what you wanna call it.”

Strade paused for a minute before speaking again with a more confident tone.

“Whatever it is, though…I kinda like it.”

XVIII. Dress-Up (Second Take)

After a nice hot shower, during which Strade shockingly managed to keep his hands to himself long enough to actually… _shower,_ Y/N rummaged through her duffel bag, trying to assess the small inventory of items she had to make herself look halfway presentable for a night out.

She was determined to impress Strade with her feminine wiles, though she wasn’t sure why she should even bother putting in the effort. He had made it abundantly clear that he wanted her even when she was drenched in various bodily fluids after marinating in her own stress-sweat for the better part of two days. In fact, he may even have preferred it that way…who knew with him, honestly? He never seemed to be the least bit deterred by things that would normally squick someone out, like menstrual blood. To him…it was just bonus lubrication. 

With the contents of the bag strewn across the bathroom counter, she pulled her dusty old makeup pouch out from under a rumpled pile of clothes and dumped it out next to the sink. Alas, there wasn’t much in there to work with so she would have to improvise. Heavily. 

Next, she picked up a black shirt, shaking it out so she could see what it really looked like. It was a long-sleeved mock turtleneck made of a stretchy material designed to be tight and form-fitting. She remembered that it was part of a set of basics that Strade bought for her once he realized she was going to need clothes that weren’t just his old, stained button-ups and Ren’s hand-me-down sweatpants. Hm. This looked promising, though she had never actually worn it since it was more intended for the colder months that had long since past.

She pulled it on over her head, squeezing through the tight collar and yanking it down all the way to her hips. Seeing that it was just long enough to function as a really short dress, she tugged the hem down further, stretching the smooth material to cover the stitches on her thigh. It was serviceable enough. They were going to the club, not a job interview, and besides it made her ass look pretty damn good. Also, because it was black, she could make it work with the scuffed combat boots she “borrowed” from some tattooed scene-queen with purple hair that Strade picked up on the street one night during a thunderstorm. He had offered her a ride when he spotted her walking home alone in the rain, and before she knew it, she didn’t need those boots anymore. Gotta have legs to wear shoes.

Anyway, if Y/N just slapped on a bunch of dark eye makeup, she might be able to pass herself off as some kind of diet-goth baby bat. Maybe Strade would be into that?

_Only one way to find out,_ she told her reflection while she combed her choppy, uneven hair. To start off, she smeared shimmery black shadow all over her lids and in the already somewhat dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t have any proper brushes on hand, so she did her best to achieve a sultry smoky look using only her fingertips, with limited success. Finishing up with multiple coats of mascara, she glanced up at the mirror over the sink and almost cracked herself up. She looked like a fucking raccoon. 

_Whatever._ it was going to be dark in there anyway, and so what if she looked like she had been crying for hours after being given two black eyes? Strade would definitely be _way_ into the battered-wife _chic_ aesthetic this sad, low-effort look had going on.

She dusted some gold-tinted highlighter and blush high up on her cheekbones and across her nose, then examined her meager selection of lip products. She had an almost used-up lip balm that smelled like artificial honeydew melon, a sticky gloss in the same baby-pink shade as Pepto Bismol with the concerning name of _Lolita Pool Party,_ and a deep crimson lip stain labeled as _Sanguination_ down the side of the slender tube in black Ye Olde English font. 

_Perfect._

When Y/N was done, she flinched back slightly, hardly recognizing herself. She looked trashy as hell, like a groupie for a mid-2000’s screamo band…but she had to admit she kind of dug it. Even the deep, scabbed-over scratches adorning her thighs like harsh pinstripes from Strade’s fingernails were a nice finishing touch that she was sure would turn the heads of any self-loathing edge lords still mad at their parents she happened to run into tonight. 

While studying herself in the mirror, she practiced her best pouty “don’t talk to me, but also please talk to me because I desperately crave attention” expression she had so often seen at the few parties she had attended in college. Once she was marginally satisfied, she fluffed her hair and took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door.

Strade was already dressed in the same familiar green shirt and khaki cargo pants he had worn yesterday, blood stains and all. _Gross._ How did he manage to still look so good just like that when she spent over an hour in the bathroom and _still_ came out resembling a coked-up trash panda?

He was sitting on the corner of the bed with his back to her, punching buttons and squinting awkwardly at the outdated flip phone that he rarely ever used. She cleared her throat and tried to strike a cute pose before he slowly turned around, still looking at his phone. He glanced up briefly, tapping a few more times. Then his head shot up again in an almost comical double-take. His eyes widened slightly as a creepy grin curled up the corners of his mouth, showing off most of his teeth. 

Snapping his phone closed, he tossed it carelessly onto the bed beside him and leaned back on his hands. He made a show of looking her up and down and she tried to hold the pose, feeling her face start to turn as red as her lips. 

“Wh-what do you think?”, she asked shyly. 

He rubbed his chin, pondering, then pointed a finger downwards in a stirring motion.

“Turn around. I can’t tell ’til I see _all_ of you.”

Y/N obeyed, twirling for him like a ballerina in a music box and he made a low noise of approval in the back of his throat. He sounded… _hungry._

“Huh. I’ll tell you what _I_ think. _Du siehst gut genug zum Essen aus, mein kleine hase.”_

“…which means?…” she asked, eyeing him carefully and hugging her arms across her torso. The way he was staring at her was making her feel very…vulnerable.

“It means you had better watch your back…’cause the wolves will be out in full force tonight, I’m sure.”, Strade purred, slowly rising to his feet.

She pressed herself against the wall next to the bathroom door, starting to breathe a little harder as he licked his lips. He actually looked pretty frightening, like a starving hyena advancing on a dying antelope. She knew she could always escape inside and lock the door if she moved quick enough…but she didn’t really want to. Plus, that probably wouldn’t work. Strade wouldn’t give a second thought to an extra charge on his credit card for a door broken off its hinges.

“Oh, yeah?…but won’t you protect me from these so-called “wolves”, Strade?”, she retorted, trying to sound like her insides weren’t on fire with white-hot panic. He seriously looked like he wanted to rip out her throat. Perhaps she had gone a little overboard on the slutty makeup?

“Mmm…Of course, _liebling._ After all…I’m not the type inclined to share my _kill.”_

With that, he suddenly pushed off of the bed, crossing the room to meet her at an alarming speed with long, deliberate strides. He smashed his fists against the wall on either side of her head, knocking the picture frame hanging above off-center and trapping her between his arms. However, before he could attack her mouth she held up her hands in protest.

“Please, not the face! Don’t make me have to do my makeup over again…It’ll take _forever!”_

Strade towered overhead, smirking at her. 

“…Fair enough.”

Forcing her head to the side so fast it gave her mild whiplash, he bit down hard on her neck above the high collar of her makeshift dress, and she mewled helplessly as she submitted to him, melting against the wall. He snarled, his teeth still embedded in her delicate flesh. Not one to share, indeed. She was willing to bet money she didn’t have that if anyone even _looked_ at her the wrong way tonight, he would probably tear them apart with his bare hands on the spot. 

How… _romantic…?_

Strade grabbed her upper arms and threw her like a rag doll towards the bed. She tripped over her own clunky boots, catching herself on her palms before she could face-plant onto the bloodstained bedspread. He seized the back of her neck to hold her in place and flipped the hem of her dress over before smacking her harshly across the ass, earning him a high-pitched yelp of surprise and pain. 

“Hold yourself up, _hase…_ or else that pretty face-paint is gonna rub off all over the bed.”

“I…I’ll try…”, she whimpered, feeling her elbows already starting to buckle just from the firm pressure of his strong hand on her neck. 

He unceremoniously yanked her underwear down just far enough to expose her, and kicked her legs further apart with the steel toe of his boot. This had all happened so fast that she wasn’t quite ready for him yet, and he grumbled, crudely spitting into his hand before rubbing it roughly against her entrance and teasing her clit for the briefest of moments. She trembled with anticipation, already beginning to pant and gasp as she heard the clanking of his belt buckle and the sound of his zipper from behind her back.

Next thing she knew he was pounding into her at a frenzied, irregular pace, making the tops of her thighs chafe painfully against the side of the metal bed frame and irritating the numerous scratches, even making some of them bleed again lightly. It wasn’t long until she was coming undone, dissolving into a shaking, moaning mess underneath him. 

“Ahhnn yeahh…Ohh my _god_ \- I’m - ahh…already - so close…!”

Strade leaned over, hissing against her neck. His hot breath and demanding tone sent chills down her spine.

_“Ohhh_ …Is that right?…Then _beg_ for me, _schätzchen_ …Beg me to make you _cum…”_

“P-please, Strade…let m-“

“Say please _“Daddy”…!” ,_ he barked, punctuating the sudden order with one short, sharp thrust, his fingertips burrowing into the knife wound that wrapped around her hip.

“What? Why do-“

He grabbed a fistful of her hair near the root, savagely jerking her head back with an angry growl.

_“Say_ it, _schlampe._ Or you won’t cum for a _month.”_

_Oh. Well, then._ He sounded pretty serious.

_“Owwww…_ Okay, okay!! …Please…D-Daddy, fuck me _harder!”,_ Y/N cried out, terrified and confused by Strade’s bizarre request. He slowed down for a moment, lightening up on the relentless abuse of her aching cunt and his husky voice softened a bit so that he sounded like a little less of an absolute fucking monster.

“Good girl…good _Kätzchen…_ You _earned_ this, you know.”

“…Oh shit, earned _what?!”_

Y/N got her answer almost immediately because Strade proceeded to ramp up the pace ten-fold, slamming his fat cock up and into her sopping wet pussy with the bruising force of what could only be accurately described as a battering ram. His name was torn from her throat in the form of a rasping shriek as she felt herself tipping over the edge, barely holding her head up inches above the bed under the weight of his well-muscled body on top of her back. 

“ _Ohh…oh ficken,_ Y/N _…ich - ich komme…!”_

Strade moaned into her ear, his hips stuttering wildly as he spilled his seed inside of her for (technically) the second time that day. When he flipped her over onto her back, her eye makeup appeared to have run down her cheeks a little with the light glaze of perspiration on her flushed face. She gazed up at him adoringly, her slightly parted blood-red lips panting softly as she tried to smile for him.

“Did…did I do good, Daddy?…”, she asked timidly, hungry for his approval. She was starting to like calling him that, as weird and wrong as it still sounded in her head.

He just chuckled and dragged a dark line down onto her cheek with the smeared eye-shadow.

“Well, your makeup got a little messy.”, he said holding up his hand to show her the black smudge on his finger.

“Oh no! I’m sorry…I really did _try…”_ Her voice was meek. Like a small, frightened mouse.

Strade leaned down to lick the sweat off the side of her neck, making her shudder with delight as his tongue caressed the sensitive spot below her earlobe. 

“Don’t fix it, _liebling._ It looks much better this way.”

She allowed her tired eyelids to drop, sincerely wishing they could stay like this all night instead of going out. He whispered in her ear, beginning to play with the slow trickle of blood coming from the reopened wound on her hip and painting vague shapes just below the hem of her hitched-up dress.

_“Vertrau mir, meine liebe…Ich weiß, was das Beste für dich ist.”_

Y/N didn’t bother asking him to translate. All of those mysterious German words may as well have had the same meaning to her when delivered in Strade’s deep, guttural growl: 

_“…Mine.”_

XIX. _Die Schlange_

As the sky darkened and the moon rose over the trees surrounding the motel, they prepared to head out for the night. Strade took one cringing look at the blood stains splashed across the white coverlet on the bed and the crusted-over, brown smear on the carpet from Y/N throwing up, before pulling a stack of twenties from his wallet and slapping it on the TV stand.

“Are you wearing your bracelet? _”,_ he asked her distractedly as he hoisted both of their bags onto one shoulder. She nodded and rolled up her sleeve, lifting her wrist to show it to him. 

“Good. Now…you need to be extra careful not to wander off tonight. You understand? I’m not babysitting you.”

“…Yes, Strade. I’m a little worried though. What if someone recognizes me or something? We’ll be pretty close to home…and…I dunno. What if they call the police?”

Strade used his free hand to grab ahold of hers and lead her out of the room. 

“Don’t be, _liebling._ I can assure you that if _anyone_ tries to take you away from me, I will make them sincerely regret it!”, he said cheerfully, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze as they approached the check-out desk.

She believed him. If some good samaritan tipped off to the authorities that the missing girl from the news was spotted on the arm of some scruffy-looking mental case in blood-stained clothes and military-grade boots…well, they’d more than likely end up dead on the bathroom floor before the night was through.

The receptionist looked up from her computer, subtly shooting them both an irritated look as Strade dropped their bags on the floor and took out his wallet.

“Sir…I’m afraid I’m going to have to add on several…ah… _noise_ complaint charges to your bill today. I had to field quite a few of those during your stay. The elderly couple in the room next to yours seemed to be convinced that someone was getting _murdered_ in there.”

Strade offered her a charming smile, resting his elbows on the desk. 

“No problem! I don’t mind at all. Although…I should really stick my buddy here with the bill. _She’s_ the real culprit!~” 

He leaned forward, lowering his voice and jerking a thumb in Y/N’s direction. 

“…A real _screamer_ in bed, that one is…” 

He burst out laughing as he handed over his credit card, elbowing her playfully in the ribs. She blushed furiously, resisting the urge to duck behind the desk to hide from the receptionist’s judgmental glare.

Only a couple of hours later, they found themselves driving through the city. Y/N touched up her lipstick in the mirror on the sun visor, then looked through her window at the bright, colorful lights and billboards of the nightlife district flashing by as they passed a string of dance clubs, sports bars, and strip joints. 

“Look, on your right. There it is!”, Strade told her, pointing to an unassuming gray and black brick structure with a bright green neon sign mounted over the front awning that read “The Snake Pit” in wavy lettering. Below it, was a scrolling marquee advertising that someone by the oddly appropriate name of “DJ Sidewinder” would be spinning that night. He or she must have been in high demand because the line to get in appeared to wrap most of the way around the building.

“That’s a lot of people! How are they all gonna cram into that little place?”, she wondered aloud as they rounded the corner to pull into the parking garage behind the club. 

“Ah, it’s all in the name, _liebling._ The Snake Pit itself is underground.”, Strade explained to her as he parked the car in a spot marked “RESERVED: PERSONNEL ONLY” in front of a simple, metal door. It had no obvious handle and there was an emergency fire exit sign on the brick wall above. He pulled out his phone, appearing to be texting someone. After a few minutes, he smirked at the screen and flipped it closed before getting out of the car and stuffing it in his pocket. He motioned for Y/N to follow him to the door and she stood next to him, holding his hand nervously while they waited to be let in.

“Shouldn’t be long…”, he muttered to no one in particular, shoving his hands in his pockets and humming to himself. She glanced behind her at the sound of rowdy voices echoing off the cement walls of the garage and spotted a group of girls in rave gear eyeing the two of them suspiciously as they piled out to the sidewalk to get in line. She heard the door swing open and quickly turned back around in time to see a tall, serious-looking man with jet black hair swept over one silvery eye standing in the doorway, regarding them coldly from behind his spectacles.

Strade’s whole face lit up with a huge, jovial grin as he assaulted him in an overly handsy hug. The other man stood stock-still, narrowing his eye in annoyance over his shoulder. 

“Well, _heyyy!!_ If it isn’t the good doctor, himself! How ya doin’, Sano?”

Sano forced a perfunctory smile of greeting and rushed them inside before slamming the fire exit and leading them down a long, dimly-lit hallway. Y/N could already hear and feel the heavy bass of house music reverberating in the gray brick walls. 

“Hello, Strade. I’m doing as well as can be expected.”

Strade walked between the two of them with a skip in his step, draping an arm loosely around each of their shoulders. Sano looked none too pleased about being touched, but didn’t make any attempt to shake him off.

“Great to hear! It’s been a while! _”_

_“_ Indeed. Though I suppose it _wouldn’t_ have been if you bothered to answer your texts every now and then.”, Sano chided him, sounding bitter.

Strade looked him over, furrowing his brow apologetically.

“Aww, sorry buddy! Guess I must’ve missed them.”

They went through a set of double doors that opened onto a balcony suspended over the dance floor. Flashing strobe lights and loud, thumping electronic music filled the air. The lower level was packed with sweaty, gyrating club-goers dancing the stresses of the work week away with the help of overpriced alcohol and illicit, recreational drugs. Y/N started to feel a little anxious and she reflexively clung to Strade’s arm for comfort. He pulled her close and Sano shot her a sour look but he just grinned, tilting his head down at her.

“Anyway, I’ve just been…busy. You know how it is.”

Sano rolled his one visible eye, unimpressed.

_“Clearly._ I never thought I would see you showing your face around here with one of your…specimens…hanging off your arm like a needy child.”

He emphasized the “s” sounds in “specimens” like a hiss, ending his observation with a sneer. Strade, however, wasn’t the least bit put off by his old friend’s less than warm welcome and he ruffled Y/N’s hair affectionately.

“Oh, _ja!_ She’s a good kid… So! How’s your brother?”

Choosing to ignore the question, Sano instead focused sharply on Y/N. His gaze was so cold and clinical that it made her shiver, involuntarily. 

“Don’t you think it’s rather irresponsible to be parading it around in public like some kind of…accessory?”

She bristled at his words. So she was an “it” now? Even Strade, who was regularly abusive and casually cruel towards her never referred to her in such a callous, dehumanizing manner. She was always his _pet,_ not just some disposable object…she was pretty sure, anyway.

Strade leaned over the railing to survey their surroundings. Already window-shopping, apparently. 

“Nah, I’m not worried about it. She’s well-trained, does whatever I say. So I thought I’d treat her to a nice night on the town for being such a good, little _haustier…_ isn’t that right, _liebling?”,_ he asked, turning to Y/N and grasping her face to look up at him.

“Of course, Strade.”, she replied shyly, trying to nod in agreement with his firm hand on her chin. He smiled sweetly and rubbed his thumb across her lips, purposefully smudging her lipstick a bit before glancing sideways at Sano with a smug look in his eye.

“See? So polite! …Just like one of your _dolls,_ eh?”

Sano stiffened visibly and adjusted his glasses.

“Please don’t mention my research in front of your… _plaything._ I’d prefer if no one else knew about that, thank you. That being said, she does appear to be quite obedient. It’s obvious that she respects you. However…”

A nasty smirk slithered its way into Sano’s otherwise humorless expression.

“You had better keep her away from Aki. She’s just the right size to be swallowed whole…And wouldn’t _that_ be a shame?”

He hissed with derisive laughter and Y/N could have sworn for a second that his tongue was black. 

_No. Couldn’t be. It’s just really dark in here,_ she assured herself.

At first, Strade raised his eyebrows, his friendly smile slipping a bit as he bared his teeth…but then he threw his head back, laughing out loud and clapping a hand on Sano’s shoulder. 

“Ahahahah!! Oh, Sano…You’re such a kidder! But seriously, I take good care of my pets. You know that.”, he finished with a slightly defensive edge to his tone as he wrapped an arm protectively around Y/N’s waist. She leaned into his touch and placed her hand lightly on his chest. She _did_ feel safer with him holding her like this, but…what was with all that stuff about being swallowed whole?

Sano crossed his arms, arching his eyebrow down at Strade.

“Right…That’s precisely why I had to perform that emergency blood transfusion on your fox…because you took such excellent care of it, am I right?”

Y/N was starting to wonder if Strade and Sano were actually even real friends. The passive-aggressive tension between them was stifling.

Strade just shrugged his shoulders, staring him down while still smiling brightly. 

“Well, sometimes I get a little carried away, I admit…”

He took a step towards Sano, his body language becoming somewhat hostile, but the taller man didn’t so much as flinch.

“…but you’re awfully _cold_ tonight, _mein freund._ Colder than usual, I mean. Hmm…”

Strade cocked his head, narrowing his eyes.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say maybe you were a little… _jealous.”_

Blinking slowly back at him, Sano remained stone-faced. 

“You can think whatever you want… _Strade.”,_ he snapped, the name leaving his lips coated with venom.

“If you should wish to speak more _intimately_ …I’ll be in the VIP lounge.”

Sano rubbed circles into his temples with two slender fingers.

“…I’m starting to get a headache.”

Strade leaned towards him, gesturing to Y/N.

“Only if I can bring her too. I got her on a, ah…pretty short leash, know what I mean?”

He winked, running his hand suggestively down Sano’s arm.

“….then maybe the three of us can have some fun, _ja?”,_ Strade purred in his ear, curling his tongue across his upper lip.

Sano’s eye went wide and his complexion reddened slightly as he turned away from them to walk down the stairs. 

“You know where to find me.”, he called over his shoulder as he descended into the crowd below.

XX. Tonight’s Special

“I don’t think he likes me very much…”

“Huh? Speak up, _liebling!”,_ Strade yelled behind him as he dragged Y/N along the perimeter of the dance floor by her forearm. 

She tried to raise her voice, nearly tripping over her feet to keep up with him as he pushed past the throngs of people congregating by the wall to get to the bar.

“Your friend! He was glaring at me the whole time!”

“Eh, don’t think too much of it! He’s a little tough to get along with! I’m sure if he got to know you a little better, he would change his tune!”, he shouted back at her, turning back briefly to give her a reassuring smile.

She wasn’t so sure about that. Strade was right about one thing, though…Sano had been behaving like a jealous lover.

As they moved forward, Y/N was abruptly almost knocked backwards and separated from Strade when someone heading in the opposite direction accidentally bumped her shoulder, hard. 

“Whoa, my bad!”, he apologized, slowing down a bit to make sure she was alright and she looked up at him, raising her hand in acknowledgement to show there were no hard feelings. However, as soon as their eyes met, he gave her a funny look in the split-second it took for Strade to notice she was lagging behind. He gave her arm an impatient tug to hurry her along and she silently hoped he hadn’t seen that little exchange. She hadn’t actually spoken to the guy, but she doubted that mattered considering his territorial nature.

The Snake Pit’s bar was comprised of a sleek-looking clear glass tank lit from within by green and blue neon tube lights entwined with one another like…well, _snakes._ They blinked off and on alternately, giving the illusion that the snakes were slithering around in a reptile cage. It was an impressive effect and Y/N quickly found herself staring, hypnotized by the lights while Strade chatted up the bartender. 

Suddenly his fingers were snapping directly in front of her face.

“Hey! Answer me when I ask you a question.”, he demanded. His usual chummy smile was still plastered on his face but he sounded like he was talking through his teeth.

“Sorry, Strade…W-what did you say? The lights…I got…distracted.”

He breathed out an exaggerated sigh before repeating himself. 

“I said…Would you like a drink?”, he spoke slowly and clearly, as if addressing a small child and lifted her up to place her on one of the high stools at the bar.

“Yes, please. Just a cranberry juice with lime would be fine.”

Strade ordered her drink, but she noticed that he didn’t get anything for himself. He simply leaned on one end of the bar so he had a good view of the entire length of it, people-watching while Y/N sat next to him and sipped her juice. His restless gaze kept coming back to a young woman in a blue dress with her auburn hair in a high ponytail, sitting by herself towards the opposite end of the bar and scrolling through her phone with her back to the dance floor. Her shoulders were hunched, like she was trying to make herself look smaller and there was a mostly empty glass of some dark liquid and ice in front of her. Strade flagged the barkeep over, subtly gesturing in her direction.

“Hey _kumpel,_ got a question for ya. That girl over there…what’s she drinking?”

“Uh..Jack ‘n Coke. She’s been nursing that one for awhile, last I checked.”

He flashed him a sly grin and slid a few bills across the counter. 

“Why don’t you give her a refill on me?”

The barkeep shrugged and tucked the money in his apron. 

“Sure thing.”

Strade watched casually out of the corner of his eye as the girl looked up from her phone in surprise and confusion to accept the drink. The bartender pointed to him but he pretended not to notice her staring. After a second or two, he slowly turned to make eye contact, lifting his hand in a little wave and giving her his best friendly “hey, buddy!” smile. She eventually returned it with a hesitant wave of her own and went back to her phone but every now and then would glance in his direction, her eyes lingering more and more on his face every time she did. Strade took this as his cue to approach her and he motioned for Y/N to follow him to the other side of the bar.

“Sit a couple of seats down from me, alright? We don’t want to scare her off.”

Y/N took a seat to his left, leaving three empty stools in between them as he slid into the one right next to his target, smooth as silk. She faced forward, focusing on her reflection in the mirror behind the bar visible in the gap between two large liquor bottles and tried her best to eavesdrop.

“Hello, there! Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahead. Um, thanks for the drink…”

She sounded unsure of herself…probably just a bit shy?

“My pleasure! I thought you could use a pick-me-up.”

A small giggle, without much humor in it.

“Well, you’d be right about that. Oh, I’m Carly, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Carly! Pretty name for a pretty girl…Name’s Strade.”

“Aw…thanks! Nice to meet you too…Strade. That’s an interesting name to go with your accent. Where are you from? Like…”

Y/N couldn’t see, but she could tell Carly was already blushing, getting ready to let down her guard in exactly the same way that she had. _Stupid girl._

“It’s German, _meine freundin…_ but if you don’t mind my asking…what’s got you so down, tonight?”

His voice was low and confidential, dripping with the honeyed sweetness of well-practiced mock sympathy. Y/N almost believed him, herself.

Carly let out a long sigh that ended in a joyless titter.

“Ahhh…well, would you believe I just got dumped? Over text too!”

Strade gasped with indignant disbelief. God, he really _was_ convincing. 

_“Whaat?_ Oh no, I’m so sorry! Why don’t you tell me _all_ abou…”

It was at this point that Y/N couldn’t hear anymore due to someone flopping down onto the stool to her right, blocking Strade from view. She instinctively swiveled away, lifting her glass to her mouth in an attempt to partially conceal her face. When he spoke, his words were slightly slurred.

“Hi…I don’t mean to weird you out or anything, but…I think I might know you from somewhere…”

Her heart jumped into her throat and she coughed a bit, almost choking on her cranberry juice. 

“No, I-I don’t think so! I’m…I’m not from a-around here…”, she stammered out, desperately trying to avoid the intruder’s prying gaze. Once she realized he wasn’t giving up, she tentatively glanced over at him. It was the guy she had run into earlier in the crowd on the way to the bar. The worst thing was…she recognized him too.

“Nah, for real. As soon as I saw you, I was all like; “damn, she looks like someone I used to know”…but you couldn’t be her…”

He leaned towards her and squinted his eyes as he studied her face behind her glass before continuing, making her flinch back and avert her eyes.

“…I don’t think. Maybe we went to school together?”

Now Y/N’s pulse was racing almost as fast as the pounding beat of the music, threatening to drown out everything else. She tightened her hold on her glass with both hands, staring down at the lipstick stain on the rim. Hadn’t she been afraid that something like this would happen? Of all nights…of all _people_ …

It had to be her ex.

They had dated for a little over a year and then broken up five months before she met Strade. She had caught him fucking her roommate one night when she unexpectedly came home early from work. Sure, she had been heartbroken when it happened but she realized now that breaking it off with him was probably one of the best decisions she had ever made. 

If she had still been with him on her day off, she would have been sitting on his ratty couch watching him play some lame FPS until he decided it was time to awkwardly flail around on top of her for two minutes before passing out for the night. Instead of going alone to the new cafe’ downtown to draw in her sketchbook. Instead of meeting Strade.

All of a sudden, she was feeling… _adventurous._

_“_ X/N…right?” She addressed him by name, keeping her expression neutral and his eyes went wide.

“How…how do you know my name? Wait. I _do_ know you! Shit…Y/N? Is that you?”

Y/N just smiled knowingly, looking off to the side and swirling the ice in her glass. 

He straightened up in his seat, trying not to let his jaw drop into his lap.

“What the fuck…It _is_ you! What…where have you _been?_ Like, you’ve been missing for months! You were in the fuckin’ _news_ for Chrissake!”

She chose to play it cool.

“Yeah, I figured. I’ve been living with my new boyfriend. Just kinda…wanted to start over, I guess.”

He merely blinked at her before narrowing his eyes, perplexed and visibly frustrated by her nonchalant attitude.

“Whaddaya mean? People have been looking for you, Y/N! Hell, your _mom_ called me a while ago, drunk off her ass, thinking you were at my place. Didn’t you tell her we broke up?”

She shrugged, distractedly examining her fingernails. 

“No…we don’t talk much. Or at all.”

“Well, look. Whatever you’ve been doing doesn’t matter now. We gotta get you back home!”

X/N's tone softened and he reached over to place his hand on her shoulder. 

“…I mean to be honest…when I heard you were missing, it kinda got me thinking…maybe I made a mistake…?”

He looked into her eyes, leaning closer and closer as his hand slowly moved up to touch her face. She stared back at him impassively, a slow smirk playing at the corner of her mouth before knocking back the last gulp of her cranberry juice like a shot and smacking the glass on the bar with a decisive finality.

“You want me back.”, she said matter-of-factly.

“Well…yeah. I guess I do. I mean, now that I know you’re OK…”

As she allowed X/N to go in for a kiss, she caught sight of Strade’s piercing, accusatory gaze from behind his back. The girl he had been talking to was gone, and for a single terrifying second she thought he would be angry with her…but then his dark expression brightened up with a mischievous, one-sided grin. He nodded slowly, subtly pointing up at the balcony overhead. To the exit. The dancing neon lights sparkled in his golden eyes, making them look otherworldly and somehow more intense.

Y/N kissed her ex-boyfriend with feigned enthusiasm, whispering against his boozy-smelling mouth as he pulled away to draw a breath.

“…Let’s get out of here.”

He laughed, raising his eyebrows and eyeing her curiously.

“Haha, wow! That really worked?…but didn’t you say you had a boyfriend?”

“He won’t mind…trust me. Besides…”, she began, climbing down from her stool and standing in front of him with her hands on his knees. She could feel Strade’s watchful eyes on her like hot needles in her side. 

“…That didn’t stop _you_ before…now did it?” 

“…But you-“

She silenced him with a single finger on his lips, forcing her sweetest smile onto her own.

“Shut up, X/N, before I change my mind. Now you coming, or what?”

She took his hand and began to lead him away from the bar towards the stairs. Strade met her eyes for an instant, covertly brushing her thigh with his fingers as she passed. He cracked his knuckles and casually followed close behind them, chuckling to himself and shaking his head with proud amusement.

Apparently, he had taught her well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translation Key
> 
> liebling - darling, favorite
> 
> kätzchen - kitten
> 
> freunde - friends
> 
> Mauerblümchen - wallflower
> 
> mein schatz - my treasure
> 
> mein haustier - my pet
> 
> Du bist doch ein so niedliches Kätzchen. - You're such a sweet kitten.
> 
> Es ist warm…und einladend. - It's warm...and inviting.
> 
> Du siehst gut genug zum Essen aus, mein kleine hase. - You look good enough to eat, my little bunny.
> 
> hase - bunny
> 
> schätzchen - baby
> 
> schlampe - slut
> 
> oh ficken - oh fuck
> 
> ich komme...! - I'm coming...!
> 
> Vertrau mir, mein liebe…Ich weiß, was das Beste für dich ist. - Trust me, my dear...I know what's best for you.
> 
> Die Schlange - The Snake
> 
> mein freund - my friend
> 
> kumpel - buddy, pal, dude
> 
> meine freundin - my friend (usually refers to a girlfriend)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N lures her ex upstairs. Things don't go well...
> 
> For him.
> 
> Also, Sano returns. Can you guess where this is going?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I have never written a threesome before but I wanted to challenge myself with this one. Even though it's probably bad, I'd still love to know how I did. Drop me a comment below! 
> 
> <3

XXI. Take Out

Despite his moderate level of intoxication, X/N couldn’t help but notice the thump of heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway only a few yards behind them as Y/N pulled him eagerly towards what looked like an emergency fire exit. He wasn’t sure if they were even allowed back here, but she seemed confident that she knew where she was going. In fact, she seemed way more confident in a general sense, overall. It kind of scared him as much as it turned him on at the same time. He wondered vaguely what could have possibly happened to her that could turn that shy, mousy little pushover into… _this._

“Yo, I think…there’s uh, some guy following us? He keeps…staring at me. I think he’s…yeah, he is. He’s _smiling…”,_ he whispered anxiously.

“No, he’s not. Stop being so paranoid.”, Y/N insisted, without even a glance over her shoulder to see what he was talking about.

Strade walked a bit faster, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. He was starting to get a little… _excited,_ and this could help calm him down. Usually. With his hands free, he was more likely to lose control. He continued around and right past them over to a keypad on the wall by the exit. After punching in a few numbers, there was a loud click as the fire alarm was disabled. He swung open the door, politely holding it ajar for the two of them to pass through while bowing slightly. 

“After you…”

“Thanks, man.”, X/N mumbled, looking around the parking garage as if he’d never seen it before. An expensive-looking car was parked right outside the door and there was something about it that made him uneasy. He noticed a faint rust-colored stain on the driver’s side headlight but when he tried to move closer to get a better look, he heard Strade pop the trunk and backed away. He didn’t want to mess with that fucking creep _or_ his car.

“Where’s your car?”, he asked Y/N, a slight tinge of panic in his voice. He suddenly really, _really_ wanted to get out of this garage. He turned around and saw her beckoning to him from a shadowy corner a few feet away from the door they had come from, leaning against the wall and eyeing him seductively. His eyes darted back over to where Strade was standing in front of his trunk, whistling cheerfully and moving things around. 

“I thought we could just do it right here…”, she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him close.

“…but…that guy is standing right _there._ He’ll see us.”

“So what?…Let him _watch.”_

X/N started to relax against her body, letting his hands wander down her sides to her hips. Who _was_ this girl?

“OK, ok…Damn, babe! Since when are you so… _kinky?”,_ he laughed a tad nervously, rubbing his clothed erection against her leg. 

“Since always. You just never noticed.” Her voice was urgent, breathy. She really _was_ thirsty for that dick. _What a slut._ His hand fumbled with the hem of her dress as he leaned in to kiss her.

But… _wait._ Why did she keep looking over his shoulder with that devious little smirk on her face? He didn’t have long to wonder.

Strade was standing right behind him with a roll of duct tape on his wrist and some heavy-duty rope coiled around one arm. He tapped X/N on the shoulder gently with two fingers, making him jump and twist halfway around in startled confusion.

“What the-“

Those were all the words he managed to get out before Strade’s fist smashed into his jaw, chipping one tooth and knocking another clean out of his mouth along with a spurt of blood and saliva. 

“The FUCK, bro!”, he exclaimed as he stumbled off to the side, nearly losing his balance. His voice was slightly muffled by his hands covering his face and the blood quickly filling his mouth from the lost tooth.

Strade licked the blood off his knuckles and a sick, satisfied grin swept across his face at the taste as he backed X/N towards some metal trash cans standing against the wall. Y/N remained in her corner, subtly biting her lip and feeling the frenetic sensation of a slow adrenaline build as she watched Strade at work. He may have been under the impression that it sometimes made her uncomfortable but the truth was, deep down…there were few things she loved more. The fear in the air so palpable she could taste it on her tongue, his sheer power, his _dominance._

“Get - get away from-“, X/N stuttered, whimpering like an abused dog with its tail between its legs. He held one hand out in front of him while blood dribbled down his shirt from beneath the other clamped over his mouth. Strade reeled back and kicked him hard in the solar plexus, sending him flying backwards into the garbage cans before collapsing against the wall and sliding down to the floor. The barrels clattered against the cement as they tipped over on top of him, dumping trash all over his lap. He hung his head and began to cough and dry-heave as he struggled to catch his breath.

Strade laughed obnoxiously and flung one of the barrels aside, making X/N flinch at the jarring sound of metal crashing against the brick wall. He dropped to his knees on top of his outstretched legs to hold him in place while he tore off a strip of duct tape from the roll with his teeth and pasted it over his bloody mouth. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a zip-tie to fasten his wrists behind his back, relishing the way his eyes bulged with terror and the strangled “MMMPPH” noises coming from behind the tape as he wheezed harshly through his nose.

Leering down at him, Strade jumped to his feet and grabbed X/N’s ankles to pull him away from the wall so that he was now on his back, lying painfully on top of his own tightly-restrained hands. He crouched down next to him and planted the bottom of his heavy boot on top of his crotch, smirking as he watched him squirm and weakly kick his legs.

“Thought you were gonna get lucky tonight, huh buddy?”, Strade chuckled, mocking him with his patented, fake “aw, shucks” tone of voice.

“Well, there’s been a… _slight…_ change of plans.”

X/N stared at the ground, trying to focus on a moldy paper coffee cup sitting just inches from his face. Anything to distract him from that heinous fucking _smile._ In his peripheral vision, he saw another pair of boots join Strade’s and he barely managed to tilt his head to look up. Y/N was standing by his side, resting her hand lightly on his back. He wrapped his arm around her hips and turned his head to press his lips to her bare thigh. 

“Nice job there, Y/N. _Mein schlauer kleiner Keks…”,_ he praised her and she blushed, moaning softly as he continued to drag his hot, wet tongue around the curve of her leg.

“Ah…thanks, Daddy! I only learn from the best…”

She then turned her gaze down at X/N, curling her lip slightly in disgust as if he was a smear of dried dog-shit stuck to the bottom of her boot. He guessed he must have looked pretty pathetic _,_ shaking violently and his breathing labored through his runny, snot-caked nose.

He knew he was well and truly fucked when he saw them nod at one another and Strade got up, circling around him to stand behind his head. Y/N stepped over his body, stopping with one foot on either side of his chest. She knew he could see right up her dress and she had to wonder if he knew how _wet_ she was right now. Strade nudged his cheek with his toe, forcing him to look straight up into their looming, down-turned faces.

“We’re gonna be taking you for a little ride, bud!…but _first_ …I think you could use a nap. You’re not lookin’ so hot.”, Strade told X/N, his voice full of concern as if he hadn’t been the one to just beat the living shit out of him. Y/N bent down, leaning as close to his face as she could reach and ran a hand through his hair, almost lovingly. His wide, teary eyes glinted with the slightest smidgen of hope before she yanked his head upwards by the roots to spit directly into one of them.

“Good night, asshole.”

With that, Strade lifted up his foot, bringing the chunky heel of his boot down savagely on top of X/N’s skull with a sharp grunt and instantly knocking him out cold.

After tying him up more thoroughly with the rope and shoving his unconscious, battered body into the trunk, Strade slammed it shut and rested on top of it for a minute, panting loudly. He palmed his sweaty hair out of his face, only for a few more wayward curls to fall down and mat to his forehead. He heard Y/N approaching from behind and he whipped around, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her against the back of the car. He squeezed lightly, gazing lustfully into her eyes with his own at half-mast as a deep flush crept up his neck to warm his face. She placed her hands on his, silently mouthing his name.

“An old flame of yours, _ja?_ Hmm…I wonder how he would feel if he knew how _loudly_ you scream for me, _schätzchen…_? How _hard_ I make you cum…? Every…single… _night.”,_ Strade growled into her mouth, his breath hot and moist as he proceeded to smear her lipstick everywhere.

“Who… _cares_ …what he thinks?…”, she gasped, once he finally allowed her to surface for air. “I can’t wait…to see you…fucking _rip_ him apart…”

Strade raised his eyebrows with genuine surprise before forcing her back down further on top of the trunk and sliding his hand up her inner thigh and under her dress. Then he suddenly perked up, wearing an odd expression like he left home without remembering to shut the oven off.

“What’s wrong?”, she asked him, but he just dug his fingers into her upper arm, hauling her back over to the door which he had propped open earlier using a cinder block. Clearly he had intended to go back inside at some point.

“I almost forgot…We can’t just take off without saying a proper goodbye to our _dear_ friend, Sano!”

She felt a stab of fear in her chest at the mention of that name.

“But…Strade, I…I’m afraid of him. He’s just so…. _cold!_ Almost like he isn’t even human, or something.”, she pleaded with him as he guided her back down the hall with his hand on her lower back.

“Aww…there’s no need to be so frightened, _meine liebe._ I won’t let him hurt you…”, he cooed into her ear as they stepped out onto the balcony. 

He cornered her against the railing, taking out his pocket knife and flicking it open right in front of her face with a snap. Y/N stole a frantic glance behind her at the dance floor below, a twenty-something foot drop. She knew that Strade wouldn’t let her fall, that most likely being too high-profile of a kill for his… _unique_ sensibilities…but there was a raging fire in his eyes that told her maybe it would be better if he did.

He giggled, sounding positively giddy as he jabbed the tip of the small, sharp blade under her chin, forcing her head back.

_“Nein…ich schätze das wäre mein Job~”_

XXII. Blue Eye

Y/N found that gaining entrance to the VIP lounge downstairs proved to be almost as stupidly easy as tricking her gullible ex into thinking she actually wanted to sleep with him. The juice head bouncer guarding the door actually even managed a sort of gruff half-smile upon seeing Strade so it was clear he was no stranger to this exclusive area of the club. Kind of hilarious, given the fact that he was dressed like someone who would come to your house to fix a hole in your drywall or mow your lawn…without y’know, the whole torture/murder sex-fiend angle.

They nodded to one another as Strade passed by but when the bouncer spotted Y/N tagging along meekly behind him, head lowered and hair curtaining her face in shadow, he stopped her in her tracks with a beefy hand on her shoulder. It looked big enough to tear her arm out of its socket with minimal effort.

“Sorry missy, but I don’t recognize _you._ You got a pass?”

She hesitantly looked up at him, about to shake her head, but Strade impatiently grabbed her hand and pulled her through the door anyway.

“Of course she does, buddy! …It’s _me.”_

Y/N couldn’t clearly see the look Strade gave him in the dark but the expression on the other man’s face immediately betrayed an unmistakable sense of apprehension, like he’d just witnessed something he probably shouldn’t have. He fell silent and jerked back to his post as if nothing had ever happened. 

On the other side of a heavy, black velvet curtain, the narrow entryway opened up into a spacious room decorated with crisp, black leather furniture and a large, circular glass table. The lounge was illuminated with ambience similar to the blue and green neon setup at the bar, with tube lights snaking along the walls. Despite being in such close proximity to the club proper it was surprisingly tranquil, with only some soft soundscapes filling the room from the speakers in the ceiling like a gentle mist. There was also a smaller bar in the back corner with an expensive bottle of whiskey and a shot glass sitting on top…but there was no one else here, at least none that the two of them could see.

Strade ambled over to the bar and helped himself to the whiskey with a shrug, as if to say “might as well!” He poured himself a shot and threw it back. Then another. And…another for good luck? Y/N stood awkwardly on the other side of the counter, looking around at the decor and nervously fiddling with a stack of coasters sitting on the bar in front of her. She felt so painfully out of place that she didn’t see the other curtain across the room swish to the side before a sharp, sarcastic voice shattered the relative silence. 

“Sure, you can help yourself to my alcohol.”

Despite his curt tone, Sano seemed somewhat…mellowed out. But no less cold. Strade huffed out a low chuckle as he watched him cross the lounge at a leisurely pace to join them at the bar.

“That I did.”, Strade declared with a wry smile. Setting down the shot glass, he came around the bar to greet his “friend”, a little unsteady on his feet. He was definitely buzzed. Y/N could feel the tension in the air crackling like electricity between them, as well as an increase in temperature like standing in front of a roaring fireplace. Had Sano turned up the heat in more than just a figurative sense? She shrank away from them a bit, perching herself on a cushioned bar stool and tucking her legs underneath her to make herself smaller. Less conspicuous. She watched the two of them cautiously as they sized each other up. 

The Snake and the Wolf. Two very different species of hunter, but both equally brutal and blood-thirsty. _Well, shit. Guess I’m dinner,_ she thought to herself. It made sense that Strade would often refer to her as a small, weak animal. 

Mouse. Bunny. Kitten. All easily torn to shreds of meat and devoured by the apex predator.

She secretly prayed to whatever god was up there who hadn’t already abandoned her hell-bound, degenerate ass that Strade and Sano would just allow her to remain a spectator to… _whatever_ was about to happen…but she highly doubted it. Granted, Strade could be a little easier to handle when he was hammered but that did little to stop him from reaching dangerous levels of violent and horny that would leave her sore and limping for days.

Sano made a face. “Ugh, how much of it did you _drink?_ …you’re clearly intoxicated.” He let out an exasperated sigh and held out his hand towards the bottle.

“Give me some of that, then. I suppose I should even things out.”

“Bahaha! That’s the spirit!”, Strade encouraged him, clapping his hands together a couple of times like an excited little kid.

He reached for the empty shot glass to refill it, but Sano simply pushed past him and snatched up the bottle, taking a long swig of the potent whiskey for himself. Strade’s eyebrows flew up in surprise, a low, impressed whistle escaping through his teeth.

As the only sober one in the room, Y/N could tell that both of them were feeling the effects of the hard liquor. A light flush of red colored their faces as they stumbled drunkenly against each other, panting lightly. Pawing at one another’s clothes. Scraping teeth and nails across skin.

Despite standing a few inches shorter, Strade probably easily outweighed Sano, being able to overpower him enough to roughly pin him up against the bar by his shoulders, though there was a good chance that the other just wasn’t resisting. Strade slid his fingers like talons up Sano’s shirt, bunching up the fabric before raking his dirty nails down his torso. Sano breathed in a quiet gasp, his deft, meticulous fingers making quick work of the buttons all down Strade’s front. Their bodies grinded against one another like desperate lovers, but their expressions remained as intense and combative as a couple of arch-rivals. One would think they were getting ready to fight instead of fuck.

Hastily whipping out his pocket knife, Strade pressed the blade against Sano’s bare stomach, growling up at him as he twisted the tip teasingly into the skin above his navel. Sano hissed back, baring a sharp pair of what were almost certainly fangs. There was no _way_ those were normal human canines.

“So…is _this_ your idea of fun?”, Sano asked as he clawed Strade’s open shirt down and off his shoulders. “Is this what you had…in mind?”

He swept his ebony hair away from his face with the back of one hand, revealing his right eye to be a vibrant ice-blue instead of gray like his left. He leaned his head back as Strade dragged his tongue from the middle of his chest up to his throat, and the latter uttered a wordless sound of pleasure at the taste of his cold skin before answering his question.

“Maybe…maybe not.”, he purred, a coy tilt in his sloppy grin as he leaned back to fumble with his own belt-buckle and lower his pants down around his hips. Evidently, whiskey dick was not a problem for Strade. He was hard as steel. Not even looking in Y/N’s direction, his lust-darkened eyes locked firmly on Sano’s as he called for his pet with a demanding bark of an order.

“Get over here, _haustier. Und sei schnell!”_ He smacked his palm on the bar for emphasis and she squeaked, startled by the sudden loud noise.

She cringed against the back of the stool, digging her fingers into the sides of the cushion before obediently sliding her feet to the floor and rounding the side of the bar. She glanced up shyly before pretending to examine the label on the whiskey bottle. Looking anywhere that wasn’t at them. She was beyond terrified of what these two dangerous, unpredictable men could do to her…but she also felt the residual heat of arousal leftover from watching Strade absolutely wreck shop on her cheating ex. Hell, even having a knife pulled on her while suspended nearly thirty feet above the lower level had done something for her. 

Maybe that was why she didn’t fight it when Strade hooked his arm around her waist and shoved her between the two of them like the filling in a sandwich. Instead of being surrounded by bread, she got two steaming hot slices of psycho killer. Sano hadn’t actually come out and said as much, but the way his whole body went rigid at the mention of his “dolls” gave her the feeling that they were probably not of the Barbie or Cabbage Patch variety.

At first, Sano wasn’t exactly thrilled by the new addition to their playdate. 

“Your pet. She squirms too much. Rather…irritating.”, he complained as Strade hiked up her dress and eased his thumb under the waistband of her panties.

“D’aw, but just look at herrr! She’s so cute, all shaking like a leaf~ I wonder how long it will take until she starts _screaming_ …” he mused, licking his chops.

“Wanna take bets…?”

Sano merely rolled his eyes, instead leaning down to whisper some strange, alien-sounding language in Y/N’s ear as he soothingly stroked her hair. She gazed pleadingly up at Strade, her eyes like porcelain saucers glossed with fear. He leered over the top of her head at Sano, who smiled back, once again putting those needle-like teeth on display. They both must have been reveling in her obvious discomfort and total helplessness.

“It’s true, her distress is quite apparent. However, if the noises that she’s making are any indication, I would say that she’s actually enjoying our attention.”

“Well, y’know what they saaay…”, Strade drawled, his words slightly slurred as he swayed back and forth on his heels. “Two’s a paaarty, but _three_ is just a _verdammt_ good time…!~”

His raucous laughter at his own lame attempt at a joke dipped into a low, rumbling growl as he sliced through the thin material at each of her hips, letting it thump to the floor. Then to her horror, he flipped it around and began to work the hilt between her legs, rubbing her most sensitive spot with the blunt end before forcing it inside and back out again with increasing rapidity. It certainly wasn’t big enough to be pleasurable and she winced at the chilly, unpleasant sensation of the metal handle against her insides…though that could just have been Sano. Leaning on him was like pressing her back against a refrigerator.

Her teeth began to chatter as Strade withdrew the knife and slipped it sideways into her mouth, forcing them to go still. 

“Hold this a sec for me, would you?”

She had little time to feel relieved that the blade still safely remained on the outside of her body before her remaining clothes disappeared onto the floor around her boots…almost as if by magic. Two pairs of hands, one methodical and curious, the other arrogant and possessive, began to crawl all over her trembling, submissive frame like hungry spiders.

_Or snakes,_ Y/N thought dully, barely suppressing a moan as she tried to clench the knife between her teeth. Strade would almost certainly punish her if she dropped it on his foot or something.

Even with her eyes closed, she could tell the difference between them. Strade’s hands were rough, warm, and slightly clammy as one clumsily groped her breasts while the other squeezed her wrist hard enough to make her fingers tingle. Sano’s were softer, but freezing on her scalp as they slowly slithered through her hair and down her back. She heard him hiss as something wet flicked against her earlobe. God, even his _tongue_ was cold, a harsh contrast to Strade’s propensity for getting easily overheated and sweaty.

“You never told me your name, angel.”, Sano said calmly, lightly pressing his fangs into her inner wrist, almost puncturing the skin. He gently removed the knife from her mouth and closed it before placing it on the bar just as Strade yanked her other hand downwards, guiding her fingers to wrap tightly around his throbbing length.

“It’s… _ah_ …Y/N…Mr. Sano, sir.” She immediately cringed at how pathetic she sounded. Like an embarrassed schoolgirl being reprimanded in front of the class. He didn’t seem to mind a bit, continuing to hiss-whisper and flit his icy tongue against her neck.

“Well, Y/N…I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, so…now you have your chance to make it _up_ to me.” His tone was conversational, as if he wasn’t seducing her with his tongue in her ear while she gave Strade the world’s shakiest hand-job. At least Sano seemed to prefer taking things slow and careful, instead of immediately plowing into her at breakneck speed like someone _else_ she knew.

“C’mon, schatz… _harder. D_ _u versuchst es nicht einmal!"_ he growled angrily, crushing her hand in his grip and actively fucking into her fist around his raging hard-on. 

_“AHhahh_ …hahaa, _thaaat’s_ it…oh, _lieb-lih-hiiingg…~”_ His tongue hung wetly out of his mouth as his shameless moaning tapered off into a breathy little chuckle. He buried his face in the other side of her neck, tearing off the bandage on her clavicle with his teeth to bite into the tentatively healing cut. Y/N cried out weakly and she felt him grin against her bleeding shoulder as he snatched his pocket knife off the bar and snapped the blade outward, tracing the tip down between her breasts and over the slightly raised pink scars on her stomach and ribs.

“Mmm _HMMmm~_ …Lemme…cut you. Jus’ a lil’ bit…” Strade panted, his boozy breath heavy and warm on her torn flesh. His tongue slid inside the wound, widening it to a gash, and she actually screamed this time at the stinging burn from the high-proof whiskey he had sucked down only minutes earlier. At the same time, she felt something hard against her lower back as Sano slipped one long finger into her quickly-moistening pussy from behind. 

“Interesting. As I thought, it appears that she is, in fact, aroused by all of this. Though according to you, Strade, most of your subjects can’t even stand the thought of you touching them.”

_“Huhhh…?_ …Ahh, _ja_ …this one’s…mmmnn…she’s _different._ Seems to ah! -…get off on the sick stuff as much as _I_ do! _Wenn Sie mich fragen…ist sie eine verdrehte, kleine Perversling ,_ ahahaha… _.”_

“Hm. Duly noted.” Sano may as well have been studying some fascinating new bacteria under a microscope instead of casually finger-fucking some girl he just met.

Sure, he still scared the shit out of her with his alarmingly low body temperature and insidiously gentle manner, but Y/N found herself being strangely attracted to the doctor, nonetheless…She was starting to see a pattern here.

_Way to go, Y/N. You really know how to pick ‘em, don’tcha?_

She couldn’t help but wonder if they were planning on eventually sticking her from both sides like a small, quivering pincushion. Then again, Strade wasn’t really the type of guy to plan much of _anything_ in situations like these.

Y/N hated herself for thinking it, but she was kind of hoping that they would. 

…even when the small, sharp blade of the pocket knife suddenly and viciously slashed through the meat of her upper arm. 

XXIII. Black Tongue

The room was starting to spin, the blue and green lights blurring together as much as the two disparate voices in front of and behind her. Blood. There were rivers of it running red down her arms, making her palms slimy and tacky as they stuck to the polished wood surface of the counter she was sitting on. 

Sitting? How could she even stay upright when she felt so dizzy? So… _floaty…_ She managed to turn her head just enough to see a strong hand grasping her shoulder to steady her, drying crimson smears weaving in and out of the fingers as they spread more of her own fluids up and down her shaky arm. Another hand briefly curled around her neck, then moved up to put pressure on her cheeks, turning her head to the side and squeezing hard with thumb and forefinger.

“…pen your mou…”, was all she heard, coming through like a bad signal on a two-way radio.

Suddenly Y/N felt herself being tilted backwards by another pair of hands that were as smooth and cold as the others were warm and rough. They pushed her legs apart and lifted them up by the backs of her knees. She allowed herself to fall, her back cushioned by someone behind her, dampened with perspiration and heaving with every labored breath. _Excited._

At the same time that Strade’s dirty, coppery-tasting fingers hooked into the corner of her mouth along with the flat of his blade, forcing her to open wider, the tip of Sano’s icy, black tongue dipped between her thighs, spread wide and quivering in his capable hands. Her moan of pleasure and blood loss-induced delirium was rudely cut off when Strade impatiently shoved the head of his cock past her lips, replacing the knife. Just like his fingers, it tasted overwhelmingly of hot metal and salty sweat. As always. 

Her head and neck began to ache and she made a strained noise in her throat. From above her, Strade let out a groan, low and deep from the vibration rippling up his shaft and he placed his hand on her neck, kneading the sore spot with his fingers. It’s like he knew, somehow. His other hand twisted into her hair, pulling her towards him to work his cock deeper into her mouth until it hit the back of her throat, making her eyes water.

… _It’s all OK, though…because I’m flying, aren’t I? Floating on a cloud…_

_“…_ think sh…osing…much blood…”, came another voice below her, curt and clinical. The freezing pair of hands holding her legs open were now resting lightly on her upper arms, covering the deep knife-wounds crossing her skin like tiger stripes. Strade halted his movements but remained inside her mouth, caressing her cheek that was now losing its lively rose hue.

“…be alright… _liebe…_ gonna fix…ight up!…”

Y/N closed her eyes and listened as more of that mysterious, unknowable language filled her pounding head and she could see an ethereal blue glow permeating her spotty vision even through her eyelids. Slowly, but surely, both the pain and burgeoning vertigo subsided.

She found herself sitting with her legs dangling off the edge of the bar, naked except for her shock bracelet and her combat boots. Strade was kneeling behind her, having climbed up on the counter to be able to take advantage of her mouth after gleefully hacking away at her arms with his pocket knife. Sano stood between her legs, still gently but firmly holding her upper arms. There was blood in coagulating pools on the bar underneath her and streaked all down her arms, but the deep cuts it had poured from were now gone. _How could that be possible?_ Sano was a doctor, not some kind of miracle-worker. Strade reluctantly pulled himself out of her mouth long enough for them to see how she was doing. 

“Feeling better, Y/N?”, Sano asked her, not bothering to wait for an answer before he leaned back down to flick his tongue up and through her dripping wet folds, flitting the pointed tip teasingly over her clit. She moaned wantonly in response, arching her back and lifting her hips against his mouth. The conviction in his tone made it sound more like an oddly-worded statement than a question.

“Oh ho…I think we should take that as an obvious “yes”, _kumpel.”_ Strade chuckled, a hint of relief in his voice. Aw. He was really worried about her? Or maybe he was just concerned about her dying from exsanguination mid-blowjob, thus no longer being able to use her as his own personal fleshlight. Could go either way, really. He certainly wasn’t upset enough to go soft at any rate. Sano raised his head, glancing up disapprovingly from his post.

“Yes, well I hope this incident gets it through your head that you need to start being more careful with your things. I won’t be there to heal her next time you go off the deep end, Strade.”

He drew tight, precise circles with his tongue around her clit before planting a soft kiss directly on top, closing his lips around that most sensitive of spots.

“Try a less… _aggressive_ approach, hm?”

Strade just grumbled under his breath and wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking himself and rubbing the head of his cock against Y/N’s slightly parted lips as she panted and mewled with delight.

“Hahh… _Ich weiß…es schmeckt gut, ja liebling…?”_

_“Mmmnn_ …ahh…S-Saaano…”

Strade’s eyebrows knit together with agitation at the sound of that name on her lips. 

“Hmph. Then maybe I should take out all of my so-called _“aggression”…._ on you, _Herr Besserwisser!_ Or are you afraid you won’t be able to handle it?”, he sneered down at him, gritting his teeth in a nasty grimace of a smile and jerking himself off with extra gusto. 

Y/N’s blood was all over his hand and his cock as a mix of that and his own pre-cum oozed into her open mouth, some of it missing entirely and running down her chin and throat. He brushed his fingers under her jaw to coax her into making eye contact with him and cradled her cheek affectionately when he saw how sweet and obedient her smile was. Of course, she wouldn’t forget to smile for him. His little kitten _always_ aimed to please.

Sano shot him a chilly glare, his mouth still buried between her trembling thighs, and his grey eye narrowed as he straightened his back like a cobra rearing up on its tail when threatened. He was courteous enough to replace his tongue with two fingers, but didn’t take his one visible eye off of Strade’s.

“I should be asking you the same thing. Are you sure you want to test me like this? After all, Strade…you’re only human.”

Strade’s sinister grin grew even wider as the heat of his own sick lust surged in his gut, making his cock throb almost painfully within his tight grip. Oblivious to their argument, Y/N craned her neck upwards to reach any exposed part of him with her tongue, licking around the very tip like it was soft-serve. After letting out a shuddering sigh, he reluctantly pushed her aside and rose up on one forward-facing foot.

He just couldn’t resist a good challenge.

“Why don’t you _try_ me, Sano?”, he purred, and slid down from the bar before lifting Y/N into his arms bridal style, carrying her over to one of the black leather couches and settling himself comfortably in the very middle with her draped over his lap. He dragged his hands roughly over her curves, enjoying all of the little noises she emitted at his greedy touch. Her head lolled back to gaze up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and clouded with desire, her small pink tongue slightly protruding from her open mouth. He took it as an invitation to burrow his fingers in her hair and kiss her forcefully, going after that cute little tongue with his own. She flailed one hand around blindly beneath her, resuming the hand-job she had been giving him earlier with renewed enthusiasm and he hummed his approval against her lips.

Strade sneakily arched a smug eyebrow at Sano who was still stubbornly standing alone behind the bar with a prominent erection visible through his black jeans. His face was quickly turning red, his cool, impassive expression softening into something that could be mistaken for longing as he witnessed their sloppy make-out session. Strade broke away from Y/N’s receptive mouth with a harsh bite on her lower lip and a lustful groan, then cast his eyes on Sano, addressing him directly as he closed his hand over Y/N’s to stroke himself harder.

“Care to join us, buddy…? _”_

The speed at which Sano crossed the lounge was surreal, hissing under his breath and his eye glowing ice blue beneath his hair.

“Get on the floor, both of you _._ On your knees for me.”, Strade commanded, leaning back against the cushions and laying his arms over the top of the couch, welcoming Sano with a provocative stare from under his lashes and a glimpse of his tongue swiping hungrily over his upper lip. That look alone (and probably the whiskey) was what finally brought the doctor to his own knees. He lowered his head in defeat, bitterly scowling at the floor because he knew he had been bested by Strade’s award-winning charisma and animal magnetism. Strade simply giggled, positively beside himself with glee at the enticing sight of not one, but _two_ submissive pets begging at his feet. Ready and eager to worship at the blasphemous altar of his massive, throbbing cock.

“Alriiight~ Winner gets to go for a ride…”, Strade teased them as he mimed someone straddling him, humping the empty air. Everything was just a game to him, it seemed.

Both determined to win the prize, Y/N and Sano got to work, peppering the length of his thick shaft with small, wet kisses on both sides and swirling their tongues over every vein and ridge while briefly intertwining in a bizarre, competitive dance. Y/N dragged her tongue up the entire underside of his cock, flicking at the tip before taking his head in her mouth and sucking lightly. Meanwhile, Sano tended to the rest of him with one dexterous hand while the other cupped his family jewels in his palm and massaged them roughly, which Strade really seemed to like judging by the way his low groaning turned into the breathy chuckle that bubbled up from the bottom of his chest. 

Y/N pulled her head back with a light gasp and an audible pop, a thin, clear string of pre-cum mixed with frothy saliva connecting her lips to his tip. No sooner had she let Strade go to catch her breath, than Sano took his chance to practically knock her over as he carelessly shoved her aside. He expertly twirled his slender, dark tongue around the thickest part of his girth, earning a low moan from Strade as well as an encouraging push on the back of his head, tugging at his hair. Demanding more.

“Ahh… _hahhh_ … _Komm schon, kleine Schlange…Nimm alles.”_

Sano obliged by taking the whole thing down his throat, purposefully but lightly grazing the tips of his fangs along his entire length as he withdrew, making Strade shudder violently. He repeated this several times, moving faster with each pass and curving his pendulous, flexible tongue underneath to cup around his cock like a hammock.

_“Scheiße…! Langsamer werden oder…ich werde -“,_ Strade growled under his breath, his husky voice rising with excitement as he tossed his head back against the couch, sweating profusely. Y/N watched him quietly from her place on the floor, her lips pressed together in a tight line as a deep jealousy bloomed like a poisonous flower in her heart. Suddenly she didn’t like seeing that look of total bliss on his face. Not at the hands (or mouth) of someone other than her. _She_ was Strade’s loyal pet, his _liebling._ This other guy was nothing more than a “buddy.” And not a very good one, at that.

_“Wenn du aufgeregt bist, sprichst du undeutlich... und man hört mehr deine Muttersprache.”,_ Sano commented nonchalantly, glancing up with a coy smirk as spittle dripped from his fangs. His pronunciation could have used a little work, but his diction was near perfect.

Strade took a much-needed breather, raking his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair while fixing Sano with an intense, unblinking stare. Gradually his smile returned, wet and bloodthirsty. It was obvious that the good doctor had won this round.

“Ah, I see you’ve been practicing, _ja?_ Please. Take a seat.”, he offered, pumping his shaft in his own fist a couple of times with fervent hostility. His sly, lusty grin promised to deliver true pleasure but the way his golden eyes burned bright under the shadow of the dark coils dangling over his face betrayed an unspoken threat.

Y/N was now seething internally, watching the man she loved eyeing Sano as if he was an exquisite cut of meat, practically drooling from the corners of his sloppy grin. She dug her teeth into her lower lip, fighting to keep her shit together. Her veins were rushing with a heady cocktail of lust and envy unlike any she had ever felt.

She soon found she couldn’t stop herself from lunging forward, hurling her full weight into Sano’s side to tackle him to the ground. As she suspected in the negligible amount of time spent thinking before acting, it was a decision that she would immediately wish she hadn’t made. He hissed sharply and flashed his needle-like fangs at her as his eyes turned as black and cold as his tongue. There was a brief struggle as Y/N attempted to stay on top of him, unable to avoid grinding her hips into his in the heat of the moment, but she quickly lost that battle. Sano was just too strong and agile, easily bucking her off and pouncing on her before she could try to scramble away to safety. He forced her thighs apart, leaning down to hiss menacingly in her ear.

“You have _no idea_ how much you’re going to regret that, you foolish little girl…”

Meanwhile, Strade had been observing with keen interest while Y/N and Sano basically fought over him. His eyes were wide and excited as he continued to pleasure himself at an easy, leisurely pace. With that look on his face, he may as well have been comically munching on buttered popcorn instead. He wasn’t expecting them to put on such a great show.

Sano took her forcibly by draping her legs over his shoulders and bending down towards her face to effectively fold her in half as he hate-fucked her into the carpet, giving her a nasty rug burn on her lower back. He was nowhere near as big as Strade but he possessed an almost supernatural strength in the way he moved against her that made her squeeze her eyes shut at the pain of her aching cunt getting viciously slammed into over and over again. He had been so gentle and considerate towards her at first, but now this was all-out war. There was real, actual _malice_ reflecting in those glossy, black orbs.

“S-Sa…no… _Ahhhhnn!!!_ Pl-please…stuh- _opp_ …”, she cried out desperately, the words knocked from her mouth with each harsh assault on her pelvic bone.

“Just be quiet and take it, sweet thing. Or I _will_ shut you up myself _.”_

After a while, Strade’s attention span started to flag and he felt himself getting a little bored, even stifling a yawn with the back of his one free hand. Why weren’t they paying attention to _him,_ instead _?_ Suddenly, he had the dawning realization through the hazy fog of lust clouding his mind that perhaps Sano and Y/N were…ignoring him. _IGNORING._ Nope, he didn’t like that. Not one bit. That shit wouldn’t fly. 

He leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm while glaring down at them with a steadily growing fury as they writhed against one another on the floor like wild animals. Then he pulled himself up off the couch with a dramatic sigh and hopped to his feet, stalking around them while palming himself lazily. To his dismay, they barely even seemed to notice he was there. Finally, he dropped to his knees behind them, fumbling to yank Sano’s jeans down further despite his frantic movements on top of Y/N who was now screaming into his palm slapped tightly over her mouth. 

_“Uhhh…_ hah?…what are you-“

“Did you forget about me, _meine lieben Freunde…?_ I was getting so _lonely_ over there, you know…while the two of you seem to be having so much _fun_ together!”

Y/N strained to move her head to the side and out from under Sano’s hand, just barely able to peek at Strade’s pouty, faux-disappointed expression behind them.

“I’m… _ahh!!_ …sorry, Strade… _I_ …didn’t… _nngh!!_ …forget you…”

“I know, _mein schatz…_ I know.” ,he favored her with a comforting smile, clearly loving the way she was blatantly sucking up to him.

He buried his fingertips into Sano’s narrow hips, hoisting them up to be level with his own, as a result Sano dragged Y/N’s body up with him in order to stay securely inside of her. After spitting in both palms and rubbing them together, Strade double-fisted his cock to guide it into position. He wasted no time stuffing himself inside his tight opening, working all the way up to the hilt with little hesitation or time given for adjustment. Sano’s entire body instantly tensed up and he hissed in a deep breath, shakily exhaling a helpless yowl of pain against Y/N’s neck. 

“Wait, Str…ade…I-I’m-”

In response, Strade mercifully pulled almost all the way out again, sliding back maddeningly slow to make sure Sano felt every inch of his fat cock pulsate and throb with need within his guts before he completely rearranged them.

“Oh, y’see…I got tired of waiting, _kumpel._ Let me give you a hot tip, though, just ‘cause I like ya!”

Strade’s tone was friendly, conversational. This was just a little chat between two close pals. Nothing crazy. He rested one hand lightly on Sano’s back for a moment before gouging into his soft flesh with his nails in a silent warning. 

_“…You. Do. Not. Fuh. King. Ig. Nore. ME!…”_

Each guttural, angry syllable that escaped from between Strade’s tightly clenched teeth was accompanied by an increasingly savage thrust, at the same time also forcing Sano deeper inside of Y/N lying on her back underneath the two of them. In a weird way, it was like she was getting railed by both of them at once in that aspect, albeit indirectly. Her head rolled back and forth on the floor as Sano lathered her neck with his black tongue, panting heavily. His icy breath fanned against her hot skin, sending shivers down her spine from the jarring contrast. 

Strade growled out a colorful variety of vague threats and curses in a jumbled, broken mess of English and German as he pummeled Sano’s ass with fervor, soon inadvertently bringing both he and Y/N to a sudden and swift, simultaneous climax. It was short and fierce, much like a punch in the stomach and they screamed with ecstatic abandon into each other’s faces as Sano shot his load up her sore, abused cunt.

Moments later Strade unsheathed himself, and with a drawn out, demonic-sounding snarl, came hard all over Sano’s back, letting his hips drop unceremoniously on the floor with a graceless thud while he laughed at the pathetic sight below him. He stood up and stretched, tucking himself back into his pants before callously nudging Sano’s limp figure over onto his side with the bottom of his boot. Exhausted and only semi-conscious, he simply allowed himself to be rolled off of Y/N, who quite frankly, looked like she had just been hit by a truck. Her makeup was a mess, now little more than an abstract painting of black and red paint all over her face, her hair a tangled rat’s nest and there were forming bruises on her ribs and hips where Sano had used her delicate bones for handlebars.

When she recognized Strade in her bleary, teared-up vision, bending down to scoop her up off the floor, she managed an appreciative smile through the gnawing ache wracking her entire frame from this ordeal. _He’ll take care of me now,_ she thought hopefully to herself as he purred gently in her ear, nipping at the side of her neck with his teeth. Seeing her with Sano like that got him thinking about something that he couldn’t quite put into words.

“Now, I’m sure you remember when you told me you’d never try to run away, that you’d never leave me…don’t you? Well, don’t _ever_ break that promise, Y/N. Trust me…I _will_ find you, _meine liebe…Du bist mein Eigentum und ich werde dich nie entkommen lassen.”_

“Of course! I would never want to be anywhere else but with you, Strade. Not ever.”, she insisted, shaking her head emphatically. He tilted his head and smiled fondly at her as he patted the top of her head, seemingly satisfied with her reply.

…and that was the honest truth. Not that she felt she had done anything wrong to begin with, but she came to the safe conclusion that she _really_ never wanted to disappoint him ever again either way.

Y/N glanced down at poor Sano lying in a heap with his pants around his knees and his back covered in thick ropes of jizz, completely spent and utterly fucked out. It turned out he got his ride, after all. She nuzzled her head up under Strade’s chin and wrapped her arms around his neck as he shambled about in search of their discarded clothes and his missing pocket knife scattered across the dimly lit room, dangerously close to nodding off on his shoulder while he carried her around. 

It could have just been his uncommonly chipper mood after having such a good nut for himself, but interestingly enough…he didn’t seem to mind all that much if she did.

Later on, as Strade and Sano sat at the bar in comfortable silence, attempting to sober up for the drive home with two cups of coffee, (and a chamomile tea for Y/N, perched on a stool between them) they happened to discover a single post-it note weighted down by a shot glass, reading in a jagged, barely-legible scrawl:

_Hey ASSHOLES!!! How about fuckin’ inviting_ ** _ME_** _next time? - xo AKIRA_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translation Key
> 
> Mein schlauer kleiner Keks - my smart little cookie
> 
> schätzchen - baby
> 
> meine liebe - my love, my dear
> 
> Nein…ich schätze das wäre mein Job. - No...I guess that would be my job.
> 
> haustier - pet
> 
> Und sei schnell! - And be quick!
> 
> verdammt - damned
> 
> Du versuchst es nicht einmal! - You're not even trying!
> 
> Wenn Sie mich fragen…ist sie eine verdrehte, kleine Perversling - If you ask me, she's a twisted little perv.
> 
> kumpel - buddy, pal
> 
> Ich weiß…es schmeckt gut, ja liebling…? - I know...it tastes good, yes darling...?
> 
> Herr Besserwisser - Mr. Know-it-All
> 
> Komm schon, kleine Schlange…Nimm alles - Come on, little snake...Take it all.
> 
> Scheiße…! Langsamer werden oder…ich werde - Shit...! Slow down or...I will-
> 
> Wenn du aufgeregt bist, sprichst du undeutlich... und man hört mehr deine Muttersprache. - When you're excited, you speak slurred...and you hear more of your native language.
> 
> meine lieben Freunde - my dear friends
> 
> mein schatz - my treasure
> 
> Du bist mein Eigentum und ich werde dich nie entkommen lassen. - You are my property and I will never let you escape.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok for real, I have no excuses for how much I adore this human trash-fire.
> 
> Please drop me a comment and tell me what you liked, (or what made you violently wretch) about my story.
> 
> Thanks for reading it! :)


End file.
